Tainted Love
by SolasVioletta
Summary: Peeta Mellark, lead vocalist of the wildly popular band, Hijack 6, has sworn off performing at music festivals. Forever. A beautiful gray-eyed stranger makes him glad he made an exception. Handcuffs, a missing key, and other hijinks ensue.
1. Me and My Ass Pillow

_I know I have a couple of other WIP's, but this idea kept buzzing around my head like a gnat that wouldn't go away. This story is at least partially inspired by a film I saw recently called **Tonight You're Mine (You Instead**, for those of you across the pond). Mature language and sexy-times to follow. I own nothing in relation to HG or TYM. I will take the blame for Finnick's accent and any other gaffs of similar nature._

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**Chapter ****1- ****Me ****and ****My ****Ass ****Pillow**

"No," I said with an admittedly petulant pout, "Absolutely, positively fucking not."

"Come on, you blighting pansy," Finnick, who thought himself god to all women, chastised playfully, "The women are plentiful and the alcohol flows freely. What's not to like?"

"Pfph. More like the women are clingly groupies, and the alcohol is watered down shite, as you would say," I groused, "Try selling it to someone who's buying, mate."

Finnick shifted from foot to foot and looked beseechingly to our fellow band mates clustered around the large conference table of our agent's Los Angeles office and then back to me, Peeta Mellark, lead vocalist and guitarist of the triple platinum, super hot band, Hijack 6.

"Finnick O'Dair, read my lips, I will _not _do another bloody music festival," I declared with conviction, "And you can't make me."

"What're you like six now, Peet?" Finnick retorted disgustedly.

"Seemed like the age of that girl who tried to sneak into my Safari Tent at Coachella last year. Security is impossible at these things. Tents everywhere and all those people milling around," I grumbled.

"I know for a fact, she was over 21 _(he would!)_, and most men would have been flattered. I didn't realize at the ancient age of 24, you thought of 21-year-old's as children." Finnick argued, "Besides, we need to promote the bleedin' album, ye wanker. Just ask Haymitch. We're weak in the EU, my frickin' homeland, of all places. We need exposure."

"I'll give you exposure..." I stood up and started to unclasp my belt. It was a bluff, sure, but Finn wouldn't let me get any farther than the buckle. Such a sucker. Really. I was so glad that Finn hadn't been raised in the good old USA. Texas hold em was not his game, for sure.

"Whoa," Finn looked positively alarmed for the Scotch-Irish libertine that he was, "Easy there, Peet Man. We're not to that point in our relationship yet. _Or ever._ How about just one set? One piddling little measly set? Kildare is gorgeous in August. It's so fucking hot in LA then anyway. Come on, man. Be a sport."

Finn looked so pitiful that I almost caved right then and there. If not being able to spot a bluff was Finn's weakness, not being able to say no to a friend was mine. Besides, I'd heard from Finn (and others) that Ireland was positively beautiful. I'd been meaning to check it out when the band was on a break. Seriously. Keep rationalizing there, Mellark.

"Well..." I played it coy, "I suppose if Thresh and Marvel agree..."

I trailed off expectantly looking at my other two band mates for their agreement before continuing, "..._And_ we play the Children's Hospital Charity gig in October, like I asked, you heartless bastard..." This was just too easy. Like stealing candy from... well, children actually. If this could get Finn and the rest of the band members on board with my pet charity, then so be it. Ireland here I come!

"Done." Finnick said with barely a wince, after seeing Thresh shrug and Marvel nod in agreement. Finn really wasn't a heartless bastard, but he, in truth, just couldn't stand seeing sick kids.

So, three months later, all five members of Hijack 6 were sitting in first class on an overnight flight to Dublin, a mere 2 days before our much publicized set at the Oxegen Music Festival in Kildare, Ireland. Finnick had already charmed the flight attendants out of multiple mini bottles of premium whiskey, and we were barely down the runway. The man was a menace, really.

He and, Hijack 6's honorary member slash agent, Haymitch, were currently singing "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For," at the top of their lungs while swilling their purloined whiskey. Haymitch was an excellent manager, tenacious as a vicious attack dog when it came to protecting our interests in Hijack 6, but a great singer he was not. I winced as he brutally mangled the last verse of the chorus. The booze wasn't helping either. This is why we should have chartered a jet, but, no, Finn wanted to arrive in Ireland like "any normal lad." I'd thought, sure, save the added expense of a chartered plane, but now I was seriously reconsidering. I glanced backwards down the aisle of the plane into the economy class section (the band had bought out the first class). I glimpsed several troubling looks on the faces of my fellow passengers, ranging from annoyed to infuriated. Ignoring the lit seat belt sign, I unbuckled and trudged resignedly down the aisle to the back of first class to the two caterwauling vocalists just as they were belting out,_ "...I have held the hand of the devil... It was warm in the night..."_

The nuns several seats behind them near the front of the coach section looked at each other disgustedly. Christ. The other passengers were going to revolt and jettison the lot of us off the plane over the Atlantic any moment. The nuns would probably offer prayers for our souls as they chucked Finn and Haymitch, et al out the door. I had to smile at my own gallows humor, as I snagged a few of the tiny alcohol bottles from Thresh on my way back to the two sinners.

That smile quickly faded when I arrived at the seats containing Finn and Haymitch in the back of first class, "Alright, guys, your impromptu homage to U2 is torturing the other passengers. Just have a little more of this, so you go to sleep like good little drunks."

I held the bottles of amber liquid just out of Haymitch and Finn's reach. Haymitch made a swipe for them, and I deftly outmaneuvered him.

"Bah. You really are a buzz kill, boy," the elder Haymitch groused, "They can always join us, if they don't like our singing."

Haymitch staggered to his feet, and turned to face the back of the plane where 150 odd sets of eyes were all trained on him with varying degrees of ill-will, "Am I right?"

Haymitch glanced around as though he expected the nuns and other passengers to jump up and burst into song. What he got was stony silence that made the sound of the plane's engines seem even louder.

"Sirs, you really must sit down. The captain hasn't turned off the fasten seat belt sign," came the crisp voice of a matronly flight attendant over my shoulder.

Just as I was turning to politely explain to the nice lady that I was trying to shut my band mates the hell up for the benefit of everyone, I caught the silvery death stare of a lovely dark-haired woman sitting just in front of the nuns. Funny sensations started pinging around in my body, like huge bats or birds or something were trying to get out from under my skin. I suddenly had goosebumps, so maybe it was rabid geese? Not knowing how long I stood there gaping at the woman, I was suddenly brought back to reality with a hard thud- literally. We hit a sudden turbulent, sending Haymitch careening into me, and in turn sending me unceremoniously to the floor flat on my ass. Ouch! Fuck that hurt!

What hurt far more was my pride, when I saw the malicious half smile that spread across the gray-eyed woman's heart-shaped face. I had once face-planted on stage in front of a crowd of 20 thousand, but this..._this_ was _so_ much more humiliating.

"Sir, are you alright?" the flight attendant, whose badge said her name was Betsy, asked politely, but sternly. It was like she felt validated that I'd fallen while out of my seat when the seat belt sign was still on.

"Eh, boy," Haymitch chortled, still standing, _of __course_, "Either you can't hold your liquor or you haven't gotten yer plane legs yet."

"Well, since I've just had a bottle of water..." I spit out disgustedly, as I scrambled awkwardly to stand up off of the floor of the aisle while everyone in coach watched in fascinated amusement. _(Why, oh, why hadn't they drawn the privacy curtains between classes just this once?)_ "Do you think it could possibly have been the f-ing drunk who staggered into me that knocked me down?"

Haymitch shrugged cavalierly, "Can't help it if you can't stand on your own two feet, Peeta."

I, normally mild-mannered, sweet-as-cream, butter-didn't-melt-in-my-mouth Peeta, growled out, "Damn it, Haymitch! Sit your ass down, and I don't want to hear a peep out of you until we are in the bus on the way to the venue."

There was a scattering of applause from economy class at that. The pretty gray-eyed woman looked smug, and God damn it, I'd cussed in front of nuns. I was going to hell, or I was already there. I wasn't sure which.

Just then Finn made the mistake of chiming like bell, "Tha's tellin' him, Peet! He can't sing for shite!"

"And that goes for you, too, O'Dair," I bellowed, before turning on my heel and limping back to my seat with as much dignity as I could muster to a chorus of "Oooo's" coming from coach. I must have pulled something when I fell because my ass and groin really hurt like a big damn dog, dammit. What the hell? Usually, it was Haymitch that did the yelling and the falling, for that matter, certainly not me.

About half an hour later, notably _after_ the seat belt sign had just pinged off, and I sat there glaring up at the damn thing, Betsy came to stop next to my seat. I looked up at her morosely.

"Sir, compliments of the lady in 26E in economy," Betsy said tartly, while holding out a small, clear plastic bag full of ice, and two travel bottles of Jameson whiskey.

I spun in my seat so fast that my ass twinged, causing me to groan audibly. Gray Eyes was well... _eyeing_ me from 26E in coach with a wicked grin on her face, while she cocked a sable brow at me. I threw her a mock salute and turned back around to slump in my seat with a crimson blush staining my cheeks.

"Please thank the kind lady of 26E for her concern for my backside, and ..." I paused for a moment, as something came to mind, "What's our dinner tonight in first class, Betsy?"

"Uh, a choice between sun-dried tomato and mascarpone ravioli tossed in a pomodori sauce or grilled filet of beef with a port wine reduction," Betsy rattled off.

"Please, send the kind lady in 26E the filet during the dinner service with my sincerest compliments. If you don't have an extra on hand, just give her Haymitch's portion. And for dessert, uh?" I looked at her questioningly.

"Banana torte with caramel sauce," Betsy supplied.

"And banana torte with caramel sauce for dessert for the lady, also, if you please, Betsy," I asked politely, "Suppose that explains the banana peels that must have found their way under my feet in the aisle earlier, eh, Betsy?"

She smiled down at me in a motherly way before asking, "And how is your...um.. injury?"

"Hurts like hell, Betsy, but I think I'll live, if the embarrassment doesn't kill me straight out."

After asking if I required anything else, Betsy took her leave to the front galley of the plane, presumably to begin dinner service preparations. Though the ice pack Gray Eyes had sent helped a little, I squirmed in my seat for a good 40 minutes trying to find a way to sit that wasn't just agonizing. I finally gave up and slammed back both of the tiny bottles of whiskey Gray Eyes of 26E had sent. Maybe the alcohol would dull the pain until we landed in Dublin, and I could get to a pharmacy to get proper drugs.

Uh.. alcohol not such a good idea. Kinda made the whole injured area pound in time with my heartbeat. I finally just shut my eyes and prayed for sleep or death, whichever was quicker. I waved Betsy away when she came with my dinner. I wasn't hungry in the least.

Sometime later, I must have dozed because I was suddenly aware of someone standing over me. Without even opening my eyes, I knew for certain it wasn't Betsy, because whoever it was didn't smell like Chanel No 5, but some deliciously earthy combination of mint and lavender with a dash of some spice I couldn't place. I cautiously cracked an eye, knowing full well who was standing at my seat. Nice skin, clear gray eyes, full lips in a heart-shaped face framed on one side by a curiously old-fashioned looking dark braid shot through with deep green highlights. The green highlights were a surprise.

Her voice was a lot huskier than I'd expected when she spoke tersely, "Thanks for dinner, and I thought you could use this. I borrowed it from the nun behind me."

She held out one of those circular neck cushions travelers often carry to help keep their heads from lolling as they nap on the plane.

"Oh. Err.. thanks, but I didn't hurt my neck," I turned my head from side to side to demonstrate and smiled winningly up at her.

"No, it's for your … um ...ass," she replied, "You know, like the cushions they give old men in the hospital after they have prostate surgery or something. Same idea, though."

Yeah, this trip just keeps getting better and better. Now she's giving me an old man ass pillow. Always nice to make a good first impression on a woman you consider to be one of the hottest females you've ever run across, and you've seen quite a few, so that's really saying something.

"Well, thanks for the compliment, I-I guess," she muttered awkwardly while blushing prettily.

_Crap! __Had __I __just __said __that __out __loud __for __her __to __hear? __Damn __liquor __she'd __sent __me._

I was sitting there staring up at her with my mouth hanging open as the blush from earlier returned with a vengeance. My ass was even blushing. Could this get any worse?

Never, ever ask that question. Not even in your own head, because it almost always can and will, if you ask that jinx of a question. Finnick, the philandering man-whore, strolled up and laid an arm around Gray Eyes' shoulders while his other hand was busy suggestively moving a Blow Pop in and out of his mouth.

"Peety, who's your little friend?"

Having trouble forming sentences almost never happened to me, but I couldn't even stammer out a "I have no idea," while Gray Eyes pointedly shrugged off Finn's embrace and stared at him as if he were something that crawled out from under the tatty seat cushions in coach.

Finnick, undeterred, removed the sucker from his mouth with a loud pop and held it out to her, "Care for a lick. Find it helps me cravings fer a feg on these long flights. Other cravings, too." He actually waggled his fucking eyebrows up and down as he said the last. Ugh.

"Nice pillow, by the way," Finn grinned down at her, "Can I get one, too?"

Gray Eyes shrugged and handed the pillow to me, while looking down her nose at Finn, "It's for your boyfriend's _ass_, so I guess I'll let him decide which ass gets it."

A laugh spluttered from me. Finn definitely was being an ass. All that, and she was clever, too.

Wait! The hottest, maybe smartest female I'd ever run across was stalking back to coach and away from me in disgust after calling me Finn's boyfriend. Have mercy for the injured! Somebody stop that woman and at least get her name.

"Fuck you, Finn," I glared up at my soon to be former band mate.

"What'd I do?" the thick bastard asked, cluelessly pouring salt on the wound.

Groaning, I rubbed my fingers over my forehead, which was now pounding in time with my ass. Yipee. Only four more hours of this delightful flight to go.

My throbbing ass and I were in such a hurry to get off the damn plane by the time it arrived in Dublin at the crack of freaking dawn, that I missed the chance to find out the gray eyed stranger's name. Luck was with me in baggage claim, however. Generally, we didn't wait for our bags, but Customs had other ideas. I was just about to ask a very hungover Haymitch to grab my gear whilst I ran screaming for drugs to the nearest pharmacy, when Gray Eyes walked up to the baggage carousel assigned to our flight, now accompanied by two other women.

"No, Jo, I didn't even ask for his fucking autograph, let alone offer him a blowjob," Gray Eyes was speaking grumpily to the smaller of her companions, who sported short, spiky hair and a skirt so tiny that I would've been able to see clear up to her ovaries if she bent over.

"It was wicked cool they were on the flight with us, though," the other taller, more ethereal girl mused in a lilting accent reminiscent of Finnick's, "Although, I always thought they had better vocals than that. Must auto-tune."

"It did sound like two cats fucking up there, but they were also drunk as shit," the one called Jo cut in.

"Peeta, the one who fell on his ass, is their lead vocalist, remember, Annie?" Gray Eyes asked in more patient tones, ignoring Jo's comment, "And he didn't sing on the plane, but you're probably right about the auto-tuning."

As the three women began walking to the far side of the carousel, I barely made out what Gray Eyes said next, "I wonder if the guitars will be in the over-sized baggage section. They better be here. We have a sound check at Oxegen tonight at 6."

As I watched Gray Eyes and her friends waiting next to the nuns for their baggage, I realized several things: 1) She clearly didn't see me lurking behind a column, trying to hide from any paparazzi and spy on her simultaneously. 2) She thought my vocals were auto-tuned? Just...no. Well, not much anyway. 3) She knew my name! It was a start, anyway. 4) Most Importantly: She was most likely a musician performing at the Oxegen Music Festival as well! How fucking awesome was that?

Oh, and I had an ass pillow to return. I straightened from my slouch against the column I'd been skulking behind. Time to turn on the Mellark charm...

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_Thanks for reading! W__ho __might __the __gray-eyed __stranger __be?__ Bet you know. __**Shall I continue? **__Review. __Review. __Review. __Review... __Is __there __an __echo __in __here?_

___ Also, taking an informal poll: American spelling of gray or English spelling of grey? Let me know, will you, please._


	2. Not the Size of the Bus That Matters

_Chapter 1 Summary: Peeta, famous rock star, fell on his backside during a trans-Atlantic flight to an Irish music festival in front of a lovely gray-eyed stranger (and 100 or so random people). Snarky flirting between the two followed. If you haven't already, I highly recommend Chap 1, as I personally thought it was kinda funny. Anyway, we last saw our hero preparing to orchestrate his own meet-cute with the girl he fancies. He has several obstacles to overcome. Not least of which, a throbbing buttocks._

_"Adult" language and situations ensue. I own n-o-t-h-i-n-g._

**Chapter ****2-**** It's Not the Size of the Bus That Matters**

_Dublin Airport- Customs:_

But...How the fuck was I going to get to her? And what if she wouldn't talk to me when I finally got there? You'd think someone with a relatively successful music career, a few hit albums, fans who said they adored him on a daily basis, and band mates who loved him like a brother would and should be able to do a little thing like walk across a fucking room and say, "Hi, thanks for the ice and the ass pillow. I'm Peeta Mellark. And your name is?" to the woman he'd not quite met on the trans-Atlantic flight to Dublin a few hours before. Simple right?

Not so fucking simple, as it turns out. My ass was throbbing from my recent throw down with gravity, so I'd be limping, not walking. Oh, and there were my band mates to ditch, who I _desperately_ did not want to witness my most likely awkward attempt to meet and charm this girl. There were also the 20 odd teen-aged fan girls milling around baggage claim eying me (and the rest of the band, to be fair) like ravenous little bunny rabbits looking at a pile of carrots. Throw in a few scary customs agents who looked like they'd just love to do a full body cavity search for illicit drugs on my famous rock star ass just to torment me, and you had a full blown, Let's Screw Over Peeta Party. Woo-hoo. Yeah. I was fucked. But I had to try, right?

Enough, Mellark. Time to get your whiny, limping ass across the room to the possible girl of your dreams...

Step one: Ditch fellow band members. Thresh and Marvel were deep in texting and/or conversations on their mobiles, so I think I could spontaneously combust, and they wouldn't notice. Haymitch was a hungover lump on a nearby bench, so he could care less about my trek across baggage claim. That left Finnick, who was... oh, shit. Finn was determinedly making his way toward Grey Eyes and her 2 friends. This could not end well.

Screw the other steps. It was time to get my injured ass across the room as quickly as possible before Grey Eyes put out a restraining order on the entirety of Hijack 6 after Finn tried to get a foursome going with her and her friends. Skirting around the little group of staring 16-year-old fan girls was tricky. I clapped on my ever-handy dark sunglasses, and I gave them my blandest smile possible. Not blowing them off entirely, but not signaling that I was available for autographs and general fawning over the pop star theatrics. Fuck, I sounded like a conceited prick even in my own head. I generally loved our fans, feeling supremely grateful they bothered to even _like_ Hijack 6's music, much less memorize all the lyrics to our songs. They were usually really sweet, and just wanted to talk to me, but I was currently on a very important mission, and I couldn't afford distractions.

I carefully limped my way by the mean looking customs guard whilst trying to look as sober and as drug-free as possible. Though my ass was still throbbing with every step, I refrained from cheekily asking him where I could get some good drugs for my problem. This time, I wasn't going to let anything stop me from getting what I wanted: Find out all I could about the intriguing woman of 26E economy class, who seemed completely immune to my admittedly humble charms and Finn's over the top Lothario moves.

Oh, no. Finn had just arrived at Gray Eyes' group at the other side of the baggage carousel. I couldn't hear what he said, but I could tell that the one called Jo looked ready to knee him in the balls, Annie seemed sort of amused, and Grey Eyes... she was staring daggers at _me_. What the hell did he say?

As I finally staggered within earshot, I distinctly heard, "Oh, but ye must. Our tour bus, it's **huge**, and not the only thing that's oversized about us, if ya catch ma meaning..."

"Finn," I interrupted while smiling apologetically at the three sets of feminine eyes now trained on me, "Haymitch needs you."

Finn looked at me like the clueless wanker he was, "Huh? Funny, Peet. He's s' hungover, we'll be lucky to get him on the bus."

"Well, why don't you go help him with that, Finn," I glared at him pointedly, "_Now._"

Bastard completely ignored my not so subtle hints. He better sleep with one eye open once we got on the damn bus, all I'm saying.

"Funny you should mention the bus. I was just talking to..." he trailed off and turned to Gray Eyes, who, as it happened was still glowering at me. Finn thought better of it, and switched to Annie, who was now looking at him and wearing a small smile, "Ehm... Annie and her friends here. By some amazing coincidence they're on their way te the Oxegen Music Festival, too. There was some cock up or other with their manager, and he can't get here to pick them up. They were goin' te try te hire a cab, which is just ridiculous. We've scads o' room on our bus, and it'd take forever te get a cab. Am I right, Peet?"

My tired, pain-addled brain was having trouble keeping up. Finn might have actually staggered into doing something helpful for a change. That is, if I could undo the offensive way he had probably offered the ride to Grey Eyes and her 2 friends.

I really tried for the winning smile that had supposedly charmed thousands, "Absolutely. We'd be delighted for the charming company."

_Fuck, __I __sounded __as__ skeezy __as __Finn. __Just __looking __at __them __I __could __tell __they __thought __we __were __a __bunch __of __lecherous__ posers __trying __to __lure __them __onto __our __bus __to __have __our __way __with __them, __and __then __offer __them __free __tickets __and __drugs __to __go __away. __Finnick __may __have __done __that before __actually..._

I pressed on desperately, "Uh... I mean it's the least I can do to repay your kindness for the ice and the pillow after my um... unfortunate mishap on the plane..." I looked over at Gray Eyes innocently. Her clear gray eyes bore into mine. Everything except for those lovely graphite pools got kind of fuzzy for a bit.

"That _was_ an impressive ass-plant," Jo smiled with evil faux-concern, sharply snapping me back into focus and out of my haze in which Gray Eyes and I were completely alone in the termininal.

Gray eyes elbowed Jo in the ribs, but I could tell she was trying very hard not to smile.

Finn had a death wish as he said, "That's not the first time our boy's fallen on his arse. Eh, Peeta?" He shoved me playfully, and I staggered but fortunately stayed upright this time, "Remember Scott Stadium? Although, in Peet's defense, it was raining, and the stage was slick as a whore's..."

"Yeah, but actually it was my face I fell on that time," I interrupted, _(Oh, __God. __What __was __it __with __Finn__ and me __and __the __verbal __diarrhea?)_, "It _was_ raining buckets, and I seem to remember someone's amp cord being in the wrong spot. Anyway, please ladies, we have the extra room on the bus. No expectations, just professional courtesy as musicians to uh, other fellow musicians. I know you'd do the same for us, if our situations were reversed."

"Not bloody likely," Jo muttered, before adding with a shrug, "What do you think, Kat? It would save us a ton of time. We need to get there and set up for our sound check at six."

A name! I finally had a name! Hurrah! I could have bounced up and down like a school girl, if it wouldn't have hurt my ass so much. Her name was Kat. Huh... Kat? Short for Katherine or Kathleen maybe?

"Gale said he could probably make it out of the festival grounds in a couple of hours..." Kat replied slowly as if thinking out her options.

"Kat, we really can't be late for that sound check," Annie chimed in, "They might not ask us back if we show up late. Or they might cancel our set altogether."

"Well, then it's settled then," Finn laid his hand on Annie's shoulder, "We would feel just terrible if you missed yer set, and we could have done something to prevent it."

For once Finn's and my objectives were the same. I was a little worried about that, since he was usually after getting into some girl's pants. I slammed on the mental brakes right there. Just doing a favor for someone. _Someone you consider incredibly hot, Mellark._ **Stop it.**

While I was arguing with myself in my head like a mental patient, the ladies consulted each other further and agreed to accept our offer. _Okay, **now** don't do anything to further embarrass yourself. Play it cool, Mellark._

A long awkward silence surrounded the five of us, finally interrupted by Kat's leaning in my direction with a husky murmur, "She said you could keep it, uh... given where it's been now."

I blinked at her rather stupidly, "Huh? I mean, pardon?"

"The uh.. ass cushion I brought you on the plane. Sister Bernadette said she didn't want it back," Kat clarified as if she were speaking to a dense four-year-old. I looked down at the pillow gripped in my hand that I'd carried all the way across baggage claim to return, having completely forgotten since.

"Oh," I blushed yet again. _Eesh._ "Well, I should at least thank the sister for her kindness," I looked at the two scary-looking nuns standing within ten feet of us, eying Finn and me with suspicion, "Which one... could you point out Sister Bernadette, please."

Katniss gestured to the older of the two ladies in the black and white habits, and I felt obliged to step over to the dour, intimidating as hell nun and thank her and offer to reimburse her for her cushion. She'd have none of it, of course. You'd think the ass of Satan himself had been upon her pillow. Made me wonder why she'd offered it to begin with. I finally forced a 100 euros on the good sister as a donation to her order and returned to Kat, Finn, and the others posthaste.

"All set, Peet?" Finn greeted me upon my return, "I see the nun didn't take any more out of yer arse. Terrifying lot they are. Reminds me of being back at school as a lad. Sister Agnes scarred me for life, and that's no lie. After catching me in a broom closet with a girl two years ahead of me, she said I was a hopeless case, who'd be spending his afterlife in the 2nd Circle of Hell. Fond of Dante, she was. I told her at least I'd be with the other sinners with the same impure ideas. That didna help ma case any," Finn shivered theatrically and laughed.

Jo's unladylike snort and Annie's bell-like laugh met his confession. Kat was silent.

"So, now that we've determined I'm a debauched man of sin, let's gather yer gear then, shall we?" Finn was saying jovially, "Most of our equipment's already at the venue, as it came with the crew a few days ago."

The next hour was spent retrieving our luggage and waiting for the Irish customs agents to let us into Ireland. Finnick and Annie were helpful with that. Thankfully, a hard look from a lady agent, who looked like she could've taken me to the floor with her pinky alone, was the worst I had to suffer from the customs officials. I think they took pity on me as I hobbled through the line with my injury. I smiled sheepishly, when I explained what happened. When would me falling flat on my ass stop being a topic of everyone's amused fascination? My luck, the tabloids would probably pick it up next. I just prayed no one from the plane had gotten a photo of it. I could see the headline: "Peeta Mellark of Hijack 6 Busts Ass on Recent Trans-Atlantic Flight."

And speaking of the bottom dwellers who peddled such tripe, we were met with at least 20 paparazzi when we stepped out of the Dublin main terminal. The five of us in Hijack 6 were pretty much used to it. The trick was to keep walking, and not stop unless you wanted to be engulfed in a sea of jabbering questions and whirring cameras. We often had a security detail with handlers with us, but not this time. Shit.

Jo just shot them an angry scowl and plowed on through the melee close behind Thresh and Marvel. Annie hovered under the protection of Finn, who had his arm protectively wrapped around her shoulders. Hmmm... interesting. And Kat, well, you'd think a performer would be used to the attention. Not so much. Kat froze- like deer in headlights froze. One second she was walking a step ahead of me through the sliding doors out of the airport, and the next I was breathing down her neck, literally. I could tell by the stiff line of her back that she was stuck in frozen shock.

"Uh, Kat, just keep walking, okay? Kat?" I shifted my carry on bag, so I could reach out and put my hand on her upper arm. Her skin felt soft and warm under my fingers. Pressed against her back as I was, her hair smelled like... lavender? The rabid geese were back to pinging around in my stomach again. What was it about this woman that had me so hot and bothered?

Time to think on that later when the paparazzi weren't snapping dozens of pictures of us. She still wasn't moving, so I slid my hand down her forearm to clasp her hand in mine. It felt clammy, but really great, too.

"Hey, Peeta! You make me feel real!" someone from the crowd yelled out, probably a fan, since it was one of our more famous song lyrics. I smiled broadly through a grimace, as I tugged a now unresisting Kat along with me to catch up with Finnick and Annie and the rest of our group.

Once we wound our way to our waiting tour bus, smaller than our buses in the US, (but any shelter in a storm, right?) I turned and planted my hands on Kat's hips to gently hoist her up the bus steps to a waiting Haymitch. She pushed my hands away and glared at me before moving to quickly clamber up the steps on her own.

"Sorry, kid, should have thought about the security logistics a bit more," Haymitch actually offered in apology, which was about as rare as a solar eclipse or seeing a Blue Man sans makeup.

I hopped on the bus and moved past Haymitch to closely follow Kat. She sat a little shakily in one of the plush seats near Annie and Finnick at the front of the bus. I took the one opposite her and stretched my legs trying to flex my throbbing glutes. That little jaunt from the terminal hadn't done my sore ass any favors. Oh, well.

"Hey, Haymitch, you got an aspirin, tylenol, morphine, a brick to knock me out? Anything?" I asked, okay, _whined_ to my manager. Figured he'd be feeling generous and help me out given his guilt about the paps.

"I'll check kid, hang on," Haymitch asked and walked to the back of the bus.

Trying not to wince, I shifted in my seat to lean over closer to Kat, "Hey, you okay? That was a little intense, huh?"

"Yeah," was all she said, as she studied me with those storm cloud eyes of hers, "I guess you're used to it."

She said this almost like a personal judgment against us, against me. Like we _liked_ that sort of thing. Being papped was fun for about the first 2 minutes it _ever_ happened to you. After that, it was annoying at best and terrifying at its worst.

"I guess. Although, now that I think of it, 'used to it,' isn't exactly how I'd describe it. We put up with it. It's part of doing what we do, yeah." I replied. _Wow, Mellark, great philosophical discussion you got going here._

"Well, thanks. Again." Kat muttered, looking down.

Dead. Silence. Crickets would be chirping next.

"Peeta," a shy voice came from Kat's left, "This might help with your sore bottom. My doctor suggested them, and they work great for me."

Annie, bless her, was holding out two pills in the palm of her slender hand. Musicians get a bad rep for taking illicit drugs, but I was generally not one of them- until today. I needed something if I was going to make it over the bumpy road to Kildare without weeping like a little baby.

"Thanks, Annie, that's really sweet of you. What are these anyw...?" I started to ask, as I took the pills in my hand tossing them into my mouth.

"Annie, that's a _great_ idea. How different can menstrual cramps and ass cramps be, right?" Johanna cut in snarkily from her seat further back in the bus near Thresh and Marvel.

Annie blushed to the roots of her dark titian hair before stammering, "It's basically prescription strength Motrin, Peeta. It's perfectly safe."

Finn laughed, "Glad te hear me mate won't be growing lady parts or some such. Cheers." He smiled down at Annie warmly, as she smiled back. _Note to self: Tell Finn if he toys with Annie, will kick his ass_.

Kat seemed to have the same thought I did, because she immediately drew Annie away from Finn and into a very intense discussion about how they should set up their equipment when they got to their sound check at Oxegen. I sat back again, half listening to the conversations going on around me, and waiting for the drugs to work their magic. Kat had a very pleasing speaking voice. A little lower than most women and very melodic. I could listen to her talk the whole trip to Kildare and be perfectly content... The over-night flight with little sleep must have caught up with me, because before I knew it, Finn was shaking me awake.

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty! We're here!" he grinned at me far too fucking cheerfully, "Better be quick. Yer girl's getting away."

"Huh?" I blinked and rubbed my eyes blearily, and looked in the direction of Finn's gaze. Kat was standing outside our bus laughing with a tall, handsome, dark-haired man I'd never seen before, "Who the fucking hell is that?" Obviously, my edit button hadn't woken up yet.

"Near as I can tell, her agent or some such," Finn replied with a shrug, looking through the bus window at the couple talking with such familiarity, "Although, if I were a colleen I'd definitely be dropping me knickers fer that."

"What?" I shook my head in an attempt to clear it. Was he speaking English? Sometimes it was hard to tell.

Finnick rolled his eyes, "If I were a _**female**_, I'd find him hot, ye dullard."

"To hell with this," I stood and managed to walk down the bus steps without wincing. Thank you, Annie. Thank you, drugs

Ah, but once my booted feet hit the soft, squishy grass at the bottom of the bus steps, and I slid a little, almost toppling into Kat and her friend. Ouch.

"Whoa. Careful, there boy-o," the dark-haired stranger regarded me speculatively, "Wouldn't want you to take another tumble. Katniss can only rescue damsels in distress so many times in one day."

_Prick. _

_So... __Kat __was __short __for __Katniss. __As __unique __and __lovely __as __the __girl __herself._

With a sicking thud, I realized that Kat**niss** and her friend, agent, or what-the-fuck-ever he was, were _laughing_ at me.

Okay, I really, really, _really_ hated this guy. A lot.

* * *

_I __know, __I __know. __Another __stranger! __I'm __sure __you __know __who __he __is, __too. __So, __how __did __I __do? Did I make you laugh? I very much hope so! __Please, __please __let __me __know __by __reviewing. __Don't __be __shy. __Thanks __from __the __bottom __of __my __heart __for __reading __(and __reviewing)!_


	3. Finding Harmony in Handcuffs

_A huge, gigantic thank you to ct522 for the tremendous support and encouragement! Check out ct522's work, **Good ****Again**. It's a fabulous continuation of pre-epilogue **MJ**! You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll moan (rated M incidentally). Seriously, I'm not exaggerating when I say ct522 is da Vinci with words (and- no, I am **not** ct522, just a big fan)._

_My usual warnings: Adult language and situations follow..._

* * *

**Chapter ****3- Finding Harmony in Handcuffs**

Gazing glumly over the grounds of the Punchestown Racecourse, home to the Oxegen Music Festival, in Kildare, Ireland, I took in the festive location packed with myriad forms of temporary housing from pup tents to million dollar tour buses and where live music could be heard in every direction. Too bad my mood did not match my merry locale. No fun being the only sober git at the party.

Sighing, I turned my back on the cheerful scene I'd been viewing from the doorway of Hijack 6's hired tour bus to face Finnick, my best friend and band mate, as he exclaimed disgustedly,"Oh, for the love o' all that is holy, Peeta! Will ye not grow a pair, and go te the hospitality tent or wherever they went and punch that son of a donkey, so's he falls on his fecking arse? Then ye grab that girl and give her such a kiss as she'll never forget it!"

"No. Peeta Mellark knows when to walk away _(unlike some people I could name, ehrm... Finnick)_," I crossed my arms on my chest like an angry 5 year old who had his favorite toy taken away, "She _laughed_ at me, Finn. Worse, she laughed at me along with her agent, boyfriend, or whoever the hell that tall jerkoff was."

"Peeta..." Finn cajoled, "I know ye fancy her, and despite recent events, I sensed the feeling was at least partially mutual. She brought ye an arse pillow fer chrissakes. I can't even count on one hand the number o' women who'd do such fer me."

"Doesn't matter, Finn. It's over." I stated resignedly. Truth was I was more hurt than angry. And true, I hadn't been at my best the last 20 hours or so since I'd made Katniss' acquaintance. Falling on one's ass in the middle of an airplane full of people had the tendency to do that to a person.

"This is so not like you," Finn mused, "Yer the man who could sell contraceptives to little old ladies well beyond their years o' worry. Yer _that_ charming when ye put yer mind to it."

Admittedly, I was having a little pity party for one at the moment, but women usually _did_ love me. Well, most women anyway. I could now count two that weren't in the Peeta Mellark Fan Club: my mother and Katniss. Maybe I was being somewhat selfish and egocentric. I know, what a shock for a hyper-popular pop star, right? The bitter memory of her laughter still echoed around in my head, along with the look she and her handsome 'friend' exchanged which spoke volumes about what a ridiculous poser they thought I was. I mean, was I? Should I get cards printed up? Peeta Mellark, Ridiculous Poser Extraordinaire, Available for Your Entertainment.

Finn sighed heavily before clapping me on the shoulder, "Alright Peet, I wasn't going te tell ye this till before the performance tomorrow, but Delly's here."

Well, wasn't that just the bread on this shit sandwich? Great. I tried to school my features to indifference, as Finn continued, "She rang up Haymitch and begged some comp tickets fer her and a couple o' her Eurotrash friends. She's been in London on a shoot. I told him it was a fecking awful idea, but he figured she'd add te the buzz of our attendance here. He also said she and Cato split."

Delly Cartwright- sweet, bubbly, former Victoria's Secret model turned actress- was also my ex. Why the fuck had I agreed to do this whole outdoor music festival in the first place? I scrubbed my hands over my face and through my hair tiredly, "It's fine. _(Not really, but I was Mr. Nice Guy, Make the F-ing Best of It, who smiled and played nice with his exes.)_ It'll be good to see her, I guess."

"Ye mean see her in clothes and not on top of that arse, Cato Masterson," Finn grumbled, and then blanched when he saw my face, "Sorry, Peet. Didn't mean te bring up bad memories."

About, what, 5 months ago now, while on tour with Hijack 6 on the East Coast, I'd glanced at the tabloids at a convenience store check-out counter we'd stopped at for a 3 am snack break after a show. I never payed any attention to those works of fiction before, best not to in my line of work. There was Delly, the woman I'd been sort of seriously seeing for the last 7 months, obviously naked and obviously enjoying herself in a hot tub with Cato, the retired Giants quarterback and Delly's co-star at the time.

I'd thought the scandal rag had gotten hold of an old photo or doctored the pictures or something. They were so grainy you could barely tell who they were, but I knew Delly even if the headline hadn't proclaimed: "Peeta Versus the Giant: Cato Wins the Girl." I spent the next 3 days trying to reach Delly by phone and text. Hell, I was about to break out the carrier pigeons next. I threatened to leave the tour, something I'd never even considered before, until Haymitch finally got Delly to call me. I could tell by her hello it was all true. They were in love she said. It just happened, she said. She didn't mean to hurt me. She did love me, but what she and Cato had was special. He wanted her to move in with him. Blah, blah, blah.

Well, what else could I do? We hadn't really explicitly said we couldn't see other people, though I'd avoided the advances of women in every city we'd played to stay faithful to Delly. She said she was in love with him. I wished her well, and hung up thinking that in future I'd be a little more careful. If there was a next time, I'd be the one who ended it.

"If it makes any difference te ya, they split up a few weeks ago, and I think she's set her sights on rekindling her romance with a certain rock star," Finn studied me closely.

I didn't even pretend to not know what Finn meant, as I joked weakly, "Good to know. Now I know which half of this damn place to avoid. The half that contains Delly."

"Smart man. Come'n, pal," Finnick put his arm on my shoulders, "Let's get plastered and laid. In that order. We have a signing later, but te hell w' that. We just won't get se drunk we can't write our own names, yeah?"

"Nah. I'm beat. Besides, I think it's safer for everybody if I just hang out here and take a quick nap before we go sign autographs. You go on. I'm fine." I plunked down on the nearest bus seat and propped my legs up on another, slumping trying to take the weight off my still sore ass.

"If ye say so," Finn quipped as he exited our bus, "More fer me."

Not sure how long I'd been out when a loud banging on the side of the bus woke me up with a jolt, making me curse as I sat bolt upright on my injury. Annie had left me a few more of her magic pills. Maybe it was time for another dose. Prescription Motrin was my new best friend. When I finally limped my sorry ass to the bus door (Where the hell was everybody, anyway?), I was greeted by a very irate Katniss. Even her hair looked angry, as her once tidy braid was coming loose and tendrils swirled around her flushed cheeks, and into her snapping gray eyes. She pushed them back in irritation, and looked up at me while shifting from foot to foot in agitation.

"You have to fix this! Now! Call a press conference and set this straight or something?" she exclaimed without preamble.

"Hey to you, too, Katniss," I said with a yawn, "Fix what? Why would I call a press conference?"

"This! I can't have my fans thinking we're together..." she held out her phone to me. I took it and blearily tried to focus on the tiny print. Her twitter feed on the small screen with stuff like: _"u make such a cute couple!" and "how could you betray your art w/ that poser?" and "Peeta's a tool. Luv u! Marry me instead."_ I scrolled down dozens of tweets all saying similar things about me and Katniss being together as a couple.

"Ah, the paparazzi pictures from the airport must've hit the press. Apparently, 2 out of 3 of your fans think you're too good for me," I said with a total lack of concern. This had happened to me more times than I could count. So used to hearing: I was with this woman or that one, or both together; So and so was having my baby; I was an alien from Venus with a 2-foot penis _(a personal favorite)_, etc. etc. "This happens all the time. You should know by now that you can't believe your own press. It'll die down in a few days."

"I don't have a few days," she grit out, grabbing my hand and tugging me down out of the bus to stand next to her outside on the grass, "We go on stage in two hours, Peeta, and now it'll be a big joke. Peeta Mellark's little girlfriend's band performing at the same festival. Oh, how cute."

I shrugged, "Could actually work in your favor. Maybe it'll draw more people. Do you want me to come to your show? I have a signing, but then I'm free."

"You conceited ass," she spat, like really spit at me. Eww. "As if I want to be known as one of your skanky hook-ups, I'm a serious musician, not some groupie or cheesy actress out to get in your probably disease ridden pants. I certainly don't want the mainstream sycophants who listen to _your_ music to come to our show."

"Hey, now," I was a patient man, but even I had my limits, "No need to be insulting. I'm sorry if you and your pretty-boy boyfriend, who I notice isn't even here to defend your honor..."

"Gale's setting up for our show, which is where I should be instead of standing here arguing with a puffed up prick, who can't even stop whining about his sore ass for 5 minutes..."

We were standing nose to nose, glaring at each other, "Well, sweetheart, I'll solve your problem. I'm going to finish my nap which you so rudely interrupted. Have a good show." I said snidely and turned to walk back up the bus steps.

"What? No! You will fix this, you conceited fame whore," she grabbed my arm to keep me from going.

We were so caught up in our argument that we didn't even notice the people milling around us were pointing and staring as a golf cart, like those used to transport important celebrities on festival grounds, slowed nearby.

"Lovely people, what is all this anger and strife?" a rich, melodic voice cut into my angry retort before I could even think of one.

We both spun to look at the owner of that voice, a man with smooth, cinnamon-colored skin in the passenger side of the golf cart now stopped next to us. Yes, Hijack 6 was famous, but I wouldn't even begin to flatter myself that we were a tenth as popular as this man, simply known by one name: Cinna. He was like the Rolling Stones and Gandhi rolled into one striking, gift to mankind package. Katniss and I both stood there staring at him in utter shock and awe, as he stepped from his cart and walked to stand between us.

"Uh, we're just having a friendly disagreement here ... Mr... I mean...Cinna," I stammered. Fuck it, I sounded like one of my own fan-girls. He really did have such presence. I could see why he commanded the adoration of millions, as he studied us with his penetrating dark eyes.

"I wouldn't call it friendly," Katniss cut in, and I shot her a shut the hell up, do you know who this is? look.

"'From discord, find harmony,'"* he recited as he reached to take us each by the hand, "My children, the future of our world depends on you, and those like you- Artists with a message of love and understanding."

"O-kay," Katniss took a tiny step back, "But I don't think I'm about to find harmony with this whiny, spoiled, not to mention clumsy, overgrown baby."

Oh...she meant me. Really not liking her very much right now, despite her stormy eyes that a man could get lost in, and that adorable greenish braid, just begging to be tugged, "Well, I'm afraid I agree with Kat here, for once. Not the me being a big baby part, of course, but I can't even begin to _understand_, let alone _love_ this prickly, shrew of a woman."

Katniss started at me hissing angrily, shoving against my chest. Cinna let go of my hand and gently clasped her wrist, and I heard a soft snick, like a metallic clicking. Where had I heard that sound before?

He moved to take my hand again, completing our weird prayer circle, looking into my eyes deeply, like he was trying to see into the back of my brain or soul or something. Whatever, man. Creepy bro-mance _not_ what I needed at the moment.

Then he said airily, "'In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.'" *

As he was uttering his second Zen proverb in as many minutes, I felt cold metal encircle my wrist above my hand he'd been holding, and then heard another soft metallic click. What the... Handcuffs? No fucking way! I had to still be on the bus dreaming this. This could not be **_real_**. Cinna, the musical luminary more popular than God, did _not_ just handcuff me to Katniss. Why?

Katniss started to tug at our attached wrists immediately, "What the hell! Let us go!"

Cinna merely smiled beatifically and said, "See. Harmony." before hopping into his cart, which sped off into the golden late afternoon light. Wait! I started to run after him and made it about two feet before I was tugged backwards by the weight of Katniss attached to me by my left wrist.

"Ow, shit, hang on there, Wile E. Coyote. Remember, we're attached," she shrieked.

"How kind of you to remind me," I responded, my voice now dripping with sarcasm, "Hurry it up. Let's go. I think I can still see them over that way."

"No, they turned right by that line of port-a-johns up there," she stated with certainty, as she started in that direction forcibly pulling me with her. Lucky me, I was shackled to a real ball buster.

After about 10 minutes of running to and fro after several golf carts in the area, me and my throbbing ass had had enough, "Whoa there," I stopped abruptly, making Katniss stagger back into me, "Oooff. I think it's safe to say we lost him. We need to quit running around with no idea where we're going. Cinna probably has a bus or a trailer or an entire f-ing pavilion given how important he is. Let me call Haymitch and see if he can find out where it is. We can go there and get this sorted out."

"I cannot believe I have one of the most important shows of my life in less than 2 hours, and I'm stuck chained to you," she wailed indignantly, as I reached into my pocket, and tugged her closer to me so I could use both hands to scroll through my contacts list on my phone.

Never thought a girl like Katniss would whine, but she just did. She even stamped her foot. That was sort of cute. Stop it, Mellark. I punched Haymitch in my contacts list. No answer. He was probably drunk in a ditch somewhere. What good was a manager who didn't take your fucking calls when you found yourself handcuffed to a virtual stranger?

"Let me call Gale," she said, sounding doubtful even to me.

"No, he's busy setting up, right?" I offered, "Finn probably knows where our sorry excuse for a manager is. I'll call him."

It rang twice, and Finn's slightly slurred voice came over the receiver, "'Lo, Peet? How's the big size a ye?"

"Not now, Finn. I have an emergency. Katniss and I ran into Cinna, and the crazy, famous bastard has handcuffed us together... No, hand...cuffed. Stop laughing, Finn... No, I'm not joking. Yeah, you're telling me. Where's Haymitch? Great! Keep him there. Don't let him leave! We need to find Cinna and get the key. She's got a show in less than 2 hours."

I rang off with Finn and turned to Katniss, who was watching me avidly, "Good news, Haymitch is with Finn in Hospitality Tent B. It's not far from our site where we parked the bus. Finn's going to have Haymitch find out where Cinna is. Let's go."

We started run/walking in the direction of the bus. Surprising how hard it is to run in unison with someone when you're bound together. I was sure we'd both have bruises on our wrists from where the cuffs were digging in every time we moved too far away from each other. Finally she stopped abruptly, "Screw this, here take my hand," she held her cuffed right hand for me to take. It was much easier to run together this way. I was more aware of the subtle movements of her body with her hand in mine. As we were running by our tour bus, I saw Thresh standing outside having a smoke.

"Thresh, hey man, you got some extra wrist bands like you wear when you're drumming? We've a bit of situation here," I held up Katniss' and my interlocking hands, so the cuffs dangling around our wrists were visible.

"Sure, Peeta, be back in a tick," Thresh chuckled as he stubbed out his cigarette and hopped into the bus. Thresh was a man of few words, and right now, I seriously loved him for it. He didn't even tease or make any bondage jokes or anything.

Should have known my luck wouldn't hold. "Peeta?" came a voice that sent sharp, pointy icicles up and down my spine, "Peeta! I've been looking everywhere for you. Haymitch said you were here when I ran into him in the hospitality tent, but then... Why are you handcuffed to this...person?"

I turned to face the owner of that voice, like a man preparing to face a firing squad, "Oh...hey, Dells. Long story. Listen it's great to see you, but as you can see, I'm kind of... um busy at the moment. Can I text you later? We'll meet up for a drink and catch up."

For some reason I couldn't entirely explain, I really didn't want Delly and Katniss within 20 feet of each other. _Well shit, there were my hopes dashed._ Delly eyed Katniss with a mixture of confusion and dare I say it, jealousy, as she walked over and hugged and kissed me. That was rich. Last time I saw her, she was shacked up with an NFL football player, and now she was hugging me like I was her long lost boyfriend. Really? I think I hugged her back before I knew what I was doing. Ah, fuck it, bygones. Glancing at Katniss, I took note of her scowling at Delly as if every negative impression she'd ever had about super models was confirmed. I glanced heavenward, _Why do you hate me so much? Why?_

Delly managed to make it worse by saying, "It's all over twitter that you came with some random girl to Oxegen. There are pictures of you arriving at the airport and everything. Is this her?"

"No, it's my twin," Katniss shot back snidely before rolling her eyes and crossing her arms, wrenching my shackled hand into her chest in the process.

I tried to move my hand to keep it from unintentionally making it to 2nd base with Katniss before replying to Delly, "Yeah, this is her. This is Katniss, my err... acquaintance," I explained, noticing Katniss' eyebrows shoot up at the description I used for her, as I continued on this introduction from hell, "She helped me out on the flight over when Haymitch knocked me on my ass. Hopefully, the press won't get a hold of that, too. Katniss this is Delly."

I wasn't even going to begin to try to explain to Katniss that Delly was my sort of ex-girlfriend, who'd left my ass for Cato Masterson, renowned womanizer. This was so fucking awkward. All I really wanted to do was scurry onto the tour bus and hide away from these two, but that certainly wasn't happening with Katniss and me handcuffed together.

"Anyway, speaking of Haymitch," I gratefully remembered we had the little attachment issue to solve, "We need to get to him and sort this out, so catch you later, Dells. I'll call. Promise."

Delly looked unsure for a second and then pulled me aside, or as aside as she could with my arm stretched as far as it could be from Katniss to give the illusion that we were alone. She reached up and brushed her fingers over my jaw, now covered with a bit of stubble, leaning in so her lips were close to mine, "I've missed you, Peeta. More than you know. Let's talk really soon, okay?"

I should have expected it, but what can I say, I was preoccupied with being attached to one woman, while another from my past was making it clear she still wanted me. Gah. Delly kissed me possessively with quite a bit of tongue. I lowered my chin and drew back as soon as possible. I'd always thought this was every man's fantasy- 2 women fighting over me. Shockingly, not so hot in real life, not at all. I blushed awkwardly. I saw Katniss stiffen her spine, while her mouth formed a straight line.

Not surprisingly, Katniss and I didn't say much to each other on the way to the hospitality tent to meet Haymitch. We were stopped just outside the entrance of the large white tent while security checked our artists' passes that hung around our necks on lanyards. Katniss looked up at me warily during the pause, "So... she's your girlfriend?"

"Ex," I supplied, shrugging uncomfortably, "She dumped me for her co-star a few months back."

"She doesn't seem so ex to me," Katniss mused softly.

"Well, she is to _me_. I was on tour when I found out via the tabloids that she was cheating on me." I don't know why it was so important to me that Katniss understand this, but it was.

Katniss smiled ruefully, "Weren't you just telling me not to believe all the press?"

I stopped mid-stride on my way to the bar on the far side of the tent, and faced her, "Unfortunately, sometimes it _is_ true. That's what's so bad about the press. They do get it right once in a while. I didn't believe it at first, not until I actually talked to her, but I initially found out Delly was with Cato by reading the cover of a tabloid during a late night gas and snacks stop on our last tour."

Her gray eyes softened, "I'm sorry. That must have been horrible."

Before I could reply we were surrounded by most of the band members of both our respective bands. Finn handed me a large plastic cup of beer joking something about being sure I needed it. I took a small sip, when I really wanted to down the whole damn thing in one go. Fuck. How had my life gotten so complicated in less than 24 hours?

* * *

_What is it with me and Peeta in handcuffs? Two of my stories now, he's in bondage. My dev**iant** mind, I suppose. What sorts of things will our hero and heroine get up to while shackled together? Ideas anyone? As always, thanks so much for reading, following, and favoriting! Please review!_

_* The two Zen quotes Cinna uses happen to be from Albert Einstein._


	4. Raindrops on Katniss, Whiskers on Peeta

_Many, many thanks to dear **ct522** for beta-ing this chapter! A gem beyond value, that one! Any mistakes are still mine, so don't go blaming ct for my on-going war with commas and other grammatical demons._

_Thanks to **all** you beautiful people out there for reading and reviewing!_

* * *

**Chapter 4-Favorite Things: Raindrops on Katniss and Whiskers on Peeta**

_Near a bar in the Hospitality Tent for Performers at the Oxegen Music Festival:_

"Damn, kid," Haymitch chortled, nudging my shoulder with his, "If I'd known you needed a girl so bad, I'd've arranged something for you."

Katniss glared. If looks could kill, Haymitch would be toe up by now, and I was a little worried I'd be next on her hit list. I stepped in before it came to blows, "Enough, Haymitch! Like I told Finn, Cinna just ambushed us. I guess you could say he flash-cuffed us while we were having an innocent argument about the press saying we're a couple. What's up with that anyway?"

"One fiasco at a time, kids. By the way, you sure look like a couple right now," he mused, taking a step back to study the two of us shackled together, "I see Thresh gave you each one of his special drummer's wristbands. Should keep the cuffs from rubbing your wrists raw, and it's just _so_ adorable that you both match."

Katniss took a threatening step toward Haymitch, and the mostly empty water bottle she'd been holding in her free hand went whizzing by Haymitch's head, missing him by a fraction of an inch.

Haymitch smirked, "Missed me, sweetheart."

"That was a warning. Next time, I _won't_ miss," Katniss ground out. _Mental note: Be ready to duck when you piss this woman off!_

Shaking his head Haymitch continued, "Of all the people in this backwater, you run across him. Cinna: brilliant artist, richer than Midas, master showman... but nutty as a box of squirrels. And his agent, Effie Trinket, now she's a real piece of work, that one. Usually, in order to get to Cinna, you have to get through her first, and that ain't easy. I'm surprised she wasn't with him earlier when he hog tied you two together."

"Nope," I replied, "Just a golf cart, a driver and the crazy Zen master himself."

"I've left messages for Effie to call me," Haymitch swirled his drink, looking down at it, "But our relationship is … complicated, so who the fuck knows when she'll get around to calling me back. Might be best if you two trot over to Cinna's compound in hopes of throwing yourselves on her mercy or..." Haymitch pursed his lips in thought.

"What do mean complicated?" Katniss asked, her low, melodic voice startling me. Except for threatening Haymitch with bodily harm, she'd been pretty quiet during our conversation thus far. I'd noticed that about her. She seemed hyper-aware of her surroundings, watching everything and everyone intently. Her astute eyes flicked back to Haymitch when he spoke next.

"We... um had a thing a while back. It was the 90's at a Nirvana show. Kinda hazy but it ended with her chucking her clogs at my head. Those suckers hurt with the wooden soles and all," Haymitch rubbed his temple at the memory and grinned at Katniss, "What can I say? Women seem to like to throw things at me. Anyway, best just to head over there, and beard the dragon in her den, so to speak. I'll stay here and keep trying to reach her, but it'd probably be better if I didn't show up with you two demanding to see Cinna, given our last encounter."

Haymitch proceeded to hand me a printed map of the festival grounds, and pointed out where Cinna's compound was alleged to be.

"Oh, and Peeta, remember we have an autograph signing in 45 minutes," Haymitch looked at me from under his brows.

I held up the wrist shackled to Katniss, "If we can't get to Cinna and get the key, I may have to miss that. She's got her show in an hour and a half, remember?"

"Well, let's hope that you _do_ find Cinna, and he cooperates," Haymitch replied gruffly, "Otherwise I'm sending 200 rabid Hijack 6 fans in your direction."

Katniss looked at me accusingly before speaking to Haymitch, "Over my dead damn body. And what about the false rumors of Peeta and I being together?"

"I'll call some people I know, " Haymitch offered doubtfully, "But it's already out there in the great big, wide, fucking world. Not a lot to be done at this point. Welcome to celebrity, sweetheart."

Katniss flipped him off as we took our leave, and started walking back toward the entrance of the large tent in silent agreement. The sooner we got to Cinna the better.

Finn, who had been mercifully silent during our visit to the hospitality tent, ambled up with Annie at his side, "Wait up there, Peet. Where do ye think yer goin'?"

"To find Cinna and get these cuffs off," I stated the obvious. Finn could be so thick sometimes. Really.

"Exactly," he said, "Which is why you need someone with innate powers of persuasion on this momentous quest, and I'm yer man. Me ma was as Irish as St. Patrick, himself, and me da was a Scotsman of the Highlands. If I could git those two together to produce yers truly, I can certainly git a key from some mystical headcase. Aside from the fact that I'm yer friend, and ye can't get rid o' me that easily. Let me just top off me drink, and I'll be ready te go. Annie, care fer one fer the road?"

Annie shook her head in the negative, and Finn trotted off. Left standing in front of us, she glanced at our cuffed wrists, "Hmmm... not Irish handcuffs. You're lucky there's a chain between them. Gives you more freedom for movement. By the looks of things these are Smith and Wesson steel cuffs, so you better hope Cinna has the key. Those aren't likely to come off without it."

Katniss and I looked at Annie in complete shock. It's always the quiet ones who know so much about the kinky shit, like exact brands of handcuffs.

"Am I being too personal if I ask you how you know so much about our, uh, accessories here?" I try to pass it off as a flippant joke.

"My uncle was in the garda back in the day," she explained like she was talking about what she took in her coffee, "He had a thing for locks and cuffs and such. That sounds bad, but he really is very interesting, and not a pervert or anything. More of a Houdini fanatic, actually."

"I never knew that, Annie," Katniss said, "If only he were here, he could maybe help us out of these."

"Maybe," she said with a lift of her shoulder, "Best bet is the key, though."

Finn came striding back looking quite please with himself, "This guy in Pitbull's band just gave me a couple of special brownies fer later. Might take the edge off if..." he gestured to Katniss and me, "... your situation doesn't correct itself."

Ugh. Nightmare in the making. Finn truly was my best friend in the world, but I really couldn't see his special baked goods helping this mission to charm Scylla to get to Charybdis. Definitely a Greek tragedy in the making of Homeric proportions. Eh, fuck it. Time to let the universe do its work, good or bad.

"Well, let's go then," I smiled beatifically, feeling lighter than I had in a while. I was physically attached by hardened steel to a girl who was amazing, hot, _and_ a bag of chips. Might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

I found my mood a little less light when we reached Cinna's little kingdom within the festival, with its nondescript entrance guarded by two very intense men in black.

"Hello," I said, trying to sound friendly and assured despite the fact that these 2 guys looked like they'd like nothing more than to watch me eat grass after they took me to the ground, "We desperately need to speak with Cinna about a key for these."

I held up Katniss' and my cuffed hands, "You see, he's played a little gag on us, but neglected to leave us the key."

"Cinna doesn't accept uninvited visitors within 3 hours of his performances," uttered the taller, dour gentleman, with the vague aura of an assassin about him, "You'll have to come back after his show."

I could tell he didn't hold much hope of our success when we returned. I was about to offer money when Katniss spoke up, "You don't understand. I have a very important gig in less than an hour, and I can't perform like this. Cinna would understand you making an exception in this case, surely."

Assassin guy didn't even blink. Damn. He was good. I'd have to look into getting security like him.

"Com'n, mate," Finn picked up the gamut, "I'm sure we can come to an amicable and mutually beneficial understanding?" He waved a stack of folded euros in his hand.

"You'll have to come back," he stated more emphatically.

"Please, sir," Annie begged with her big, soulful eyes. The man had a heart of stone, if he could resist that.

"Smythe, who are these people?" a shrill, gratingly proper voice cut in, "And what are they doing loitering about at such a time? We have a big, big night ahead."

If I hadn't seen what a hard-ass Smythe was beforehand, I would have thought him a fawning toady at that moment. His entire demeanor changed.

"Taking care of it, Ms Trinket, ma'am," he rushed to answer the rather diminutive woman with short spiked pink hair, who tottered through the entryway on Fendi platform boots that added at least 4 inches to her height. So not what I would have imagined the spiritual, holistic Cinna's manager to look like. She was like Lady Gaga on steroids but way more... well... just _more_.

"Ms Trinket, I presume," I jumped into the breach, so to speak, "Uh, hi, my name is Peeta Mellark. _(No, reaction to my name, whatsoever. Damn that was humbling.)_ These are my friends Katniss, Annie, and Finnick. We're just such huge fans of Cinna."

"Always a pleasure to meet those who admire Cinna's many talents," Effie Trinket gushed with what seemed like sincerity, "You should be headed to the main stage right now to get near the front of his concert at 9. I'm sure it is going to be one of his best ever."

"I'm sure it will be, but you see we had the pleasure of meeting Cinna earlier today outside our tour bus, and well, he did this," I held up my cuffed hand bringing Katniss' hand along with it, "And the thing is, he didn't leave us the key. It's very important we get them off, like now. We both have commitments with our respective bands in the next hour."

Effie Trinket drew up to her full height as her face formed a prim grimace, "If you think I'm going to let you in to see Cinna just because you allege that he was somehow involved in your bondage, you are sadly mistaken. Smythe, Bower, handle this immediately. I won't have Cinna's pre-concert schedule disrupted by ridiculous accusations from these obviously delusional people."

"Me dear lady," Finn stepped forward, to take her hand in his _(This oughta be good.)_, "I assure ye, there is nothing delusional about us. My two friends here have been chained together against their will by some wild notion o' Cinna's. We all know he's a little nutters, am I right?" _(And he was doing so well until the end there.)_

"I will **not** listen to another moment of these slanderous lies against such a benign, dear soul," Effie Trinket actually pulled out a silk handkerchief, and blotted her eyes delicately before totally undoing her lady in distress act in her next sentence, "Gentlemen, remove these...unfortunate people," she spit the last as if we were something she'd find under her ridiculously high boots.

She actually snapped her fingers at Smythe and Bower who were herding us away from Cinna's tent, as if they weren't doing it fast enough.

"And I thought Haymitch was bad," Finn grumbled disgustedly, as the four of us walked away, with Smthye and Bower eying us suspiciously, "That woman is a cross betwixt Anne Bonny and Queen Elizabeth. I've ne'er hit a woman before, Peet, but for her I'd consider making an exception. Just a gentle, little shove to topple her off those fecking high boots o' hers, so ye can rush by her to get to Cinna."

Annie laughed saying, "I'd say she favors the pirate more than the monarch. And be nice, Finn. Didn't ye ever hear ye catch more flies with honey than vinegar?"

"Only when yer already as sweet as ye are, lass," Finn winked back. _Yuck. Overt flirting ahoy._

Katniss stopped when we were out of sight of Effie's two guard dogs, "There has to be another way in there. Maybe if we check around back?"

"Worth a shot, I guess," I said, "Though we're running out of time here. Why don't we split up and circle around? Finn, you and Annie go that way, and Katniss and I'll go this way. Text if you see a way in."

"Right," Finn said enthusiastically, grabbing Annie's hand and heading in the counterclockwise direction I'd suggested.

As near as I could tell, Cinna's compound was shaped by a tight circle of trailers and buses around a large tent. There had to be a gap in the perimeter somewhere along the way. Katniss and I were about a quarter of the way around when we found it. Under a trailer hitch and behind some equipment crates, there was a small gap at the base of the tent that hadn't been secured. I quickly texted Finn that we'd found a possible way in but got no response.

As we clambered under the trailer hitch, I said, "I'll go in first, and you can follow if it's clear."

"Why do you go in first? I'm smaller, I can make it through the gap in the tent without disturbing it too much," Katniss questioned. _Was everything going to be a fucking competition with this woman?_

I gestured at the gap with my free hand, saying in a terse voice, "Ladies first, by all means. I'll be right behind you, obviously." Not like I had much choice since we were attached.

Katniss shimmied so half her body was in the tent, and the half with the arm attached to mine was still outside. I started moving forward, carefully lifting the flap, as I went. My head was just under the heavy tent fabric, when Katniss abruptly started moving back out of the tent, her cuffed hand frantically scrabbling for mine to pull me out with her. I caught a brief glimpse of Fendi platform boots before she tugged me to the outside of the tent again.

Effie Trinket's high, distinctly prissy voice could easily be heard through the canvas, in a one-sided conversation, "...Yes, I understand he's one of your headline acts... Yes, Cinna _will_ be there. We can reschedule the other thing. He must be allowed his artistic flights of fancy after all," at this she tittered nervously.

"He's committed to giving you a brilliant performance, I assure you!" she continued in a placating voice, "Yes, talk to you soon."

Effie had hung up with whomever she was talking to, but continued to mutter angrily to herself, "Cinna ought to be _committed_! Disappears hours before a show on the main stage of the biggest music festival in Ireland. When I get my hands on him... I'll... argh..."

Katniss and I exchanged a look of dread. Both of us were distinctly glad we weren't Cinna just then. Effie sounded murderous.

Effie's high-pitched shriek reverberated through the tent making Katniss and me both startle where we crouched on the cool grass, "Smythe... Smythe! Get over here immediately! Any sign of him yet?"

"No, ma'am," the nervous voice of Smythe responded, poor bastard, "He's not answering his mobile, and the people we've sent out to look for him haven't seen any sign of him."

"This is unacceptable, Smythe," Effie snapped like barking chihuahua, "How could you lose an internationally renowned musician in the space of a few hours?"

"He said he needed the loo, and then he was just gone..." Smythe said in a slightly panicked voice, "There are 50 thousand people milling about..."

"Yes, well, none of them are as famous or as recognizable as Cinna.," Effie interrupted shrilly, "He's clapped Peeta Mellark in handcuffs, Smythe! Surely, you know who he is? _(Thank you. Ego restored.)_ His manager is a beastly man. I'm sure that's going to cause me no end of bother before it's over. Find him! Find Cinna, Smythe, or you'll be lucky to get a job as a school crossing guard when I'm done with you!"

I sat back on my haunches with a sigh, "Well, looks like we aren't going to be getting the key from Cinna anytime soon, seeing as his manager doesn't even know where he is. Our best bet may be to go to his performance in a few hours. Hopefully, he'll show up for that, although, I'm getting the impression, that Cinna is a bit of a flake."

"That's all fine and good, but his performance is _after_ ours. How am I supposed to play onstage with you attached to my wrist?" Katniss jerked at her cuffed wrist to illustrate her point, "What about bolt cutters or something?"

I saw a surge of hope in her eyes, and I hated to dash it, "You heard what Annie said. The key is pretty much our only option. Unless you have a set of industrial size bolt cutters that can cut through hardened steel in your pocket?"

Katniss narrowed her eyes at me, "Funny. I'll just let you stand up in front of our audience and tell jokes then, shall I?"

"I'm just saying, I think we may be stuck with each other for the near future," I shrugged, "Maybe we should head back to the hospitality tent and see if anyone else has any ideas."

"If I have any hope of performing, I need to get over to our venue at the Apple Live Stage near the Fun Fair, like now," she argued.

"That's all the way on the other side of grounds from the Main Stage, right?" I pulled out the map Haymitch had given me, "At least a 15 minute walk from here, I'd guess. That's if no one spots us, I mean _me_, and we get mobbed by fans."

Katniss drew back and stared at me with disdain, "You really are a conceited ass, you know that, right?"

"It's happened before," I replied defensively, "Back here in the performer-only area, we're relatively safe, but once we go out where all the other festival goers are, if I'm recognized, it would probably draw a big crowd," She actually rolled her eyes at this, "No, I'm not Cinna, but Highjack 6 is one of the headline acts of this festival, after all. People know what I look like. You do the math."

Katniss seemed to mull this over as her eyes drifted over me, making me wish I'd taken a moment to clean up at some point in the day before now. Combing the fingers of my free left hand through my blonde hair that was probably currently standing on end, I shifted self-consciously. My beard scruff was itchy, and I could only hope the circles under my sleep deprived eyes weren't too pronounced. Holy fuck, Mellark, she's right, you _are _a vain, conceited ass.

She snapped me out of my reverie by saying, "Well, we'll just have to see that no one gets a good look at you, yeah? We left some of our luggage at your bus to be picked up later. Let's go there first. I might have something to help disguise you a bit. Though, I think the smears of dirt across you cheeks might be a start."

I felt my cheeks flush at this as I rubbed at them. I must have gotten dirty climbing under the tent flap. She reached out and brushed her fingertips over my lightly whiskered jaw, "Seems a shame to wipe off perfectly good camouflage."

Very much hoping she couldn't see the goose flesh suddenly popping up on my arms from her innocent caresses. Her face turned thoughtful as she paused in stroking my chin, seemingly unaware she was still touching me, "Must be really strange being Peeta Mellark, famous rock star. Adored by thousands, men want to be you, and women just _want_ you..." she paused in her musing and looked down shyly, "I saw all the people at the airport. They seemed so… hungry."

"It's not real, you know," I said in a low voice.

"Not real," she repeated softly, "What _is_ real to you?"

"Peeta Mellark: youngest son of a baker, started a band with his friends in the basement of his Penn State dorm. Real." I stated with conviction, "If I let all that other stuff you said define me, I could lose myself. I've seen it happen, and it never ends well."

Okay, we were sitting on the chilly grass outside Cinna's tent, handcuffed together, her important performance looming- discussing my existential bull-shit theories. What in the _hell_ was I doing?

With a gusty breath, I moved to stand up, and pulled Katniss up beside me, "I'll text Finn and have he and Annie meet us at the bus."

I felt a twinge of guilt that I was somehow _glad_ to still be linked to this amazing woman walking next to me. Stealing a sideways glance at Katniss, the guilt intensified when I noted her shoulders were slumped dejectedly, her handcuffed arm hung loosely next to mine. She was thinking, pondering her next move. She was realizing the ramifications of being shackled to me for the near future at least. I had a signing event with the rest of Hijack 6 in less than 30 minutes, and her show was in less than an hour. What to do?

Katniss stopped walking to face me,"Peeta, what about your signing? If we go all the way across festival grounds to my performance site, there's no way you can be there for that."

"Katniss..." I began, not exactly sure what to say next, "Let's get to your venue, so you can warm up. The rest of Hijack 6 will be at our signing. There can't be that many fans who'll miss me, right?"

She rolled her eyes at me, "That's like saying you wouldn't miss the ocean if it suddenly didn't have any water in it. That'd be sand, rock and dead fish. That's the desert, Peeta."

Staring down at her, I put my hands on her shoulders, causing her cuffed hand to fold up at the elbow, "This show is so much more important than my signing. I'll take the hit. Haymitch will handle it. What do we pay him for anyway? Let's go."

We stood there with random people milling around us, her gray eyes locked on mine for several moments in a battle of wills, until it started to rain. Not a light sprinkle or a friendly, warm summer shower, it was pouring like someone turned a faucet on full blast. My hair was plastered to my head immediately. My black t-shirt clung to me like a second skin. I'd always heard it rained a lot in Ireland. Now I knew what they meant- this country wasn't so fucking green by accident.

Katniss blinked and water fell from her eyelashes, "You're wet."

I laughed at her obvious statement, "So are you. That generally happens when someone stands in a downpour."

I smiled down at her, reaching to brush a wet tendril of rain-darkened hair from her cool cheek with the thumb of my free hand. Like that, it got a whole lot warmer. My eyes followed a rain droplet as it trailed down the side of her nose to trickle over her slightly parted lips and over her chin. I watched in captive fascination as it moved down her slender neck to the spot between her collar bones and downward until it sluiced into the gentle curve of her breasts. I could see them clearly outlined through her thin t-shirt. My eyes were riveted to the now taut nipples pressing through the wet fabric there. Oh, God. Stop looking. Stop staring. Just... stop.

I forced my eyes in reverse up the path they'd taken downward, to find her staring at me with a smoky, heated look. I felt a shudder of desire through my body, as I took a step toward her. Heat radiated between our bodies just on the verge of touching. I imagined steam furling around us as the wet fingers of my manacled hand grasped hers.

All I could think of was touching those rainy lips with mine. She must have been having similar thoughts because her eyes were focused on my mouth as her tongue darted out to lick a rain drop away from her full lower lip. If I didn't kiss her right then, I was going to explode with desire. All they'd find of the former Peeta Mellark would be a sodden puddle of ash. I slowly tilted my head downward, rain dripping into her face from mine, kissing her skin before I did. Just as my lips softly brushed the corner of her mouth and the very tip of my tongue darted out to taste a stray water droplet there, a loud crash of thunder overhead seemed to underscore the crackling electric charge of our contact. Katniss startled and the moment broke just as the storm did. We stood staring at each other in dazed shock.

"Oh, I'm sorry," I forced myself to take a step back, brushing my hands down her arms as I did, her wet skin slipping beneath my fingertips. For a sizzling moment her darkened eyes raked over me from head to foot, and another wave of desire surged through me.

"Don't," she murmured, shaking her head, "Don't do that."

I was afraid to ask what she meant. Don't kiss her or don't apologize for doing so? I turned determinedly, her hand still in mine and led her in the direction of the tent where her show would be.

What the hell was I supposed to say now, after our almost kiss? After all that? Every nerve in my body was humming. I felt sure she could feel it through our linked hands as we walked briskly through the people rushing in the rain around us.

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_Well- Was it don't kiss her or don't apologize for it? **Let me know what you think of this and more with your lovely reviews, please.** Thanks for reading! _

_I'm preparing for a trip to the seaside, so I may not get another chapter up for a bit, but please, don't forget about me!_


	5. Port-a-Potties, Punches, and Pot

_Greetings, my lovelies! Sorry for the delay in updating, and thanks for your patience, and your lovely reviews, favorites, and follows. I can't even begin to convey how grateful I am for each of you. **Huge thanks to my beta, the lovely, insanely talented ct522!**_

**_Chapter 4 Summary (just to jog your memory): _**_Peeta and Katniss, still handcuffed together, discover Cinna is missing and, therefore, they have no way of getting the key from him. They share a heated moment in a rainstorm on their way back to the Hijack 6 tour bus. Peeta is scheduled for an autograph signing with Hijack 6 while Katniss' band has a performance. Peeta graciously offers to miss his signing for Katniss._

_Soundtrack recommendation for this chapter: "Need Your Love So Bad" as sung by BB King and Sheryl Crow_

_Warning: Mature language and themes, including inadvertent drug use, to follow._

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**Chapter ****5-**** Port-a-Potties, Punches, and Pot **

Katniss and I arrived dripping wet from our rainy walk from Cinna's compound to find most of the members of our bands crowded on the Hijack 6 bus. Finn and Annie escaped the worst of the storm, which had abated soon after Katniss and I got on the bus. My great luck showing itself again, I suppose.

"Looks like you just got a few hundred more fans for your gig, sweetheart," Haymitch quipped cheekily while tipping his whiskey bottle at Katniss. The man had a death wish, no doubt.

He looked at me and continued, "Guess I'll be sicking the Peeta Patrol on you after all. Sorry, kid. Word around the Festival is Cinna's MIA, which would explain why you're still wearing your arm candy here."

"How did you know about Cinna? And what's the Peeta Patrol?" Katniss paused in toweling her now loose hair to ask.

In his habit of giving too much information, Finn answered, "Haymitch knows everythin'. Always remember that. As for the Peeta Patrol, they're a particular subset of our fans- hysterical screaming, full-on Peeta fanatics," Finn shivered theatrically, "Scary group, that. Like crazy-arsed ninjas or something, but w' thong underwear they're fond o' throwing at our boy here. I came up w' the name, I'm proud te say."

I was simultaneously blushing and receiving a death stare from Katniss. Crap.

"Dammit, Finn, that's only happened a couple of times! It's not that bad," I hurried to say, shifting my gaze to Katniss warily, "They just really like me, and most of them are very nice. They'll cheer like crazy when they see me on stage with you, so at least you'll have an enthusiastic crowd. Every performer likes that, right?" I chuckled nervously. She wasn't buying my bullshit. What a surprise.

Haymitch finally caught on that his lead singer was in mortal peril, so he cut in to say reassuringly, "Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll hold them off as long as a can, but I wouldn't do more than one encore if I were you."

"Why do I not feel reassured by what you just said? And call me sweetheart one more time, old man, and I'll shove that whiskey bottle somewhere that you'll need a pry-bar and lubricant to remove it, dammit!" Katniss snapped.

In her ire, Katniss was spectacular, though seemingly unaware of the effect she had as she stood straight and proud with her head tossed back, her glorious dark hair flowing down her back, her breasts outlined where they thrust against her damp shirt. I glared at Marvel, who was obviously enjoying the view. Haymitch's wheezy laugh cut into my thoughts of getting Marvel into a choke hold.

"Woo-hoo. I like this one. She's got spunk. Peet, I wouldn't be in too much of a hurry to find the key, if I were you," Haymitch drawled with a wink.

The look on Katniss' face darkened further as she eyed Haymitch's whiskey bottle menacingly. One of us was on the verge of being unmanned or worse. Think fast, Mellark.

"Uh, Katniss, we'd better get you to your gig. Final sound check in less than an hour, right? You mentioned a disguise for me, so we can get across the festival grounds without me being recognized," I said desperately hoping to distract her, and praying she didn't have anything she could strangle me with in her luggage.

"Yeah," she walked stiffly over to a duffel in the small pile of bags in the corner of the bus and rifled through it, pulling out a green vintage army jacket at least 2 sizes too big for her, "See if it fits. Obviously, we'll have to work with the sleeve you can't put on."

"Hey, can I borrow your towel to dry off a bit first? I'm still pretty wet," I asked. My shirt was sticking clammily to the skin of my torso, but there was no way to remove it with my hand cuffed, so I tugged it up over my chest and abdomen and wrung it out and blotted my bare skin with Katniss' towel. I felt Katniss' inscrutable gaze on me, and looked up at her with what I intended as a friendly half-smile, "Wish we could change out of these wet clothes."

Silence. So, that's how it was going to be after our incredibly fraught moment in the rain. Okay. I could play it cool, as well.

With her help, I shrugged into the right arm of the coat, which seemed to fit pretty well. We draped the left shoulder over my back and let the left arm hang loose, "Well, that should work, right?"

I looked around questioningly to the group at large.

"Pull the hood over your head, blondie. That hair's a dead give-away. You must go through gallons of peroxide every month," Johanna shot snidely.

"It's my natural hair color. It gets lighter in the summer," I replied defensively, but I did pull the hood over my head. This helped keep the coat on better anyway, an advantage since I couldn't put my left arm in the sleeve. We agreed I should wear my ubiquitous dark sunglasses, walk with a slouch, and I was as good as I was going to get in my disguise. I either looked like Peeta Mellark in disguise or the scary guy who was about to knock over a liquor store.

"I guess we're set then. I'll see you guys after the show. Be extra nice to our fans tonight," I said to my band mates, as I followed Katniss, Johanna, and Annie out of the bus.

"Hey, Peet, hold up," Finn called from the bottom step of the bus. He held up the plastic bag of brownies he'd scored earlier in the hospitality tent, "I'm thinkin' you're going te need these more than me tonight."

"Thanks, Finn," I took the bag from him and tucked it in my jacket pocket with a smile, "I'm starving."

Finn's expression was amused when he said, "Use them well, me friend. They're _special_. Oh, and, Annie, break a leg, m'dear."

Annie smiled broadly, blushing prettily at being singled out. I was going to have to have a serious talk with Finn sooner rather than later.

We made it halfway across our route to the Apple Live Stage before one observant girl with reddish hair quietly put her hand on my arm and asked in a lilting Irish accent, "I just have to know. Peeta is that you?"

I glanced around us to assure myself that the rest of the crowds of people seemed oblivious, before I lowered my sunglasses and held my index finger to my lips in a shushing motion before winking and smiling at her. She giggled, strongly reminding me of a laughing fox, "Sneaky Peeta. Don't worry, I won't rat you out."

"Thanks, darlin'," I said in my best American accent and continued on my way.

After walking in silence for a minute or two, I glanced over at Katniss and realized she was studying me with a disgusted expression. Honestly, hot and cold this one. I was getting whiplash.

"What?" I asked her.

"_Thanks, __darlin_'," she mimicked in a snide imitation of my voice.

"She was cool not to make a scene, and she seemed really sweet," I responded tensely, letting my hood slip off in my irritation.

Katniss reached up and tugged it back on my head, "Watch it. Without the hood you will be recognized. If nothing else, I see what you were saying earlier."

Had she actually admitted that I was right, and she was wrong about the fan recognition thing? I turned my head away from Katniss to hide a smug smile. I was drawn from my gloating by a couple of curious looks from passing festival goers.

"This disguise is only going to go so far," I leaned to murmur in Katniss' ear, "I have an idea. Don't slug me okay?"

I reached my left cuffed hand and took her right cuffed hand in mine before lifting it to place her palm flat against the base of my neck, so her arm extended across my chest while mine bent at the elbow.

"Good. Now slide your hand to the other side of my neck under my jacket to hide the cuffs," I instructed. Her hand brushed under the collar of my t-shirt to rest on the bare skin there. I had to swallow a groan before continuing, my voice coming out a little gruff, "That's right. We're just two lovers, who can't keep their hands off of each other, strolling to the ferris wheel for a ride." I nodded to the huge, brightly lit amusement ride ahead of us.

"Two lovers, my Aunt Fanny," Katniss grumbled, but she shifted her warm fingers against my sensitive skin in what seemed almost like a caress. Almost.

"Now, I'm going to lean into you to at least partially hide my face, okay," I warned her. Turning my head, I leaned down to rest my temple against the top of her head, effectively putting myself in profile to any passersby who cared to look.

"Is this really necessary?" Katniss whispered tightly.

"I think so. People won't expect Peeta Mellark to be out for a stroll with his girlfriend in the middle of this crowd," I whispered back.

We were so close we didn't need to speak up even with the noise of the crowds and music around us. I felt like we were in our own little bubble in the middle of the surging tides of people, "But I can try to adjust my hood to hang over my face more, if you'd prefer."

"No, it's fine," she breathed. We walked on in tense silence.

"So, this Gale's coat I'm wearing? Seems too big for you," I asked softly. Somehow it really irked me that I was wearing her boyfriend's coat while walking so close to her that the sides of our bodies brushed against one another's with every step we took.

She stiffened and started to pull away from me. I reflexively tightened my hold on her hand resting on the bare skin of my neck, but then relaxed it once I realized what I'd done. She didn't move away, though.

"It was my dad's," she ground out. I felt the angry tension emanating from her in waves.

I shifted my neck a little, so I could look down and see one of her eyes, which was suspiciously shiny with the sheen of unshed tears. _Mellark __you __are __a __moron._

I swallowed, knowing I wouldn't like what came next when I asked, "Was?"

"He died when I was 12. This was his hunting jacket. He always wore it when he took me with him to the woods," she explained in a soft voice so full of sadness that I had no choice but to draw her closer to me, and lean down to press my lips against her ear to murmur, "I'm so sorry."

She shrugged slightly and took a deep breath, before continuing in a stronger voice, "I take it with me everywhere. It makes me feel close to him, even though he's gone."

"Wow," I responded without thinking, "I wish someone loved me that much."

What the hell was happening to me? What was it about this prickly, changeable, confusing, gray eyed goddess that had me saying things like that? Help!

"Hey, lovebirds," Johanna's voice behind us saved Katniss from having to respond to my needy comment, "Get a fucking room, will ya?"

"Shut up, Johanna," Katniss snapped back at her, "Or _you_ can deal with his groupies, when you blow our lovey-dovey couple cover."

My stomach picked that time to rumble, reminding me of my other physical needs. I realized I hadn't eaten much that day. Remembering Finn's brownies, I reached in my pocket with my free hand and pulled them out.

"Hey, Katniss, could you help me open these. Even though I'm starving, I'll share them."

After she helped pull apart the plastic zip lock, I offered the opened bag to her first, but she shook her head, "No. Not before a show. Too nervous."

"I know exactly what you mean. I'm the same way. Haymitch even keeps a bucket in the wings of the stage just for me, if you know what I mean," I chortled around a mouthful of brownie.

"Yuck! Really? That's gross, Peeta," she replied, wrinkling her nose adorably.

"I'd say it's better than puking on my boots or worse- into the crowd. These brownies are really good. They put a little cinnamon in them. Nice touch. Sure you won't try one bite?" I offered.

"One tiny bite because I love cinnamon and chocolate together, but if I puke on stage, I will personally kick your ass, Mellark," she relented. As we laughed together, I could feel her chuckles radiate through my body at our close contact.

"Hey, can I have some? I'm starved, and I doubt Hawthorne got us anything good for backstage," Johanna asked in sugary-tones. _Now_ she was nice- when she wanted some of my baked goods.

I was just brushing the crumbs from the last of the brownies I'd shared with Katniss, Johanna, and Annie from my fingers when we arrived at the relatively quiet entrance reserved for performers at the back of the Apple Live Tent. Katniss pulled me aside by tugging at my still captive hand, "Uh..." she looked up at me uncomfortably, and gestured to our left, "I need to stop there for a minute before I go in. I knew I shouldn't have drunk all that water earlier."

She shifted on her feet, her black boots squishing on the soft ground, as she tried to keep eye contact with me. She was obviously embarrassed and even more stunning with the heightened color in her cheeks.

"What?" I asked, shaking myself from my lust-filled stupor. Her eyes flicked again to the nearby portable toilets stationed against the back of the tent. "Oh, sure. No problem. I'll just..." I walked with her to stand in front of the bright blue plastic door, "...um... wait out here?"

I was wondering how in the hell she was going to manage to visit the facilities without me going in there with her. We weren't anywhere close to a level in our relationship, acquaintance, or whatever where we could pee in front of each other.

Katniss took a deep breath, always a good idea before visiting a port-a-potty, and sidled into the small space, pulling my attached left arm with her. The light plastic door closed on my bicep, leaving a gap of several inches, allowing me a clear view of her beginning to lift her short skirt up her thighs._ Oh, God. Stop gaping, you fucking perv. What the hell is wrong with you?_

"No peaking," her husky voice made me jump and move as far away as I could from the gap in the door. I guiltily turned my head to focus on the large lit up Ferris wheel in the distance in the opposite direction.

Hearing the sound of rustling fabric on the other side of the thin door, I desperately tried to ignore the fact that I was handcuffed to a beautiful, sexy woman in the act of pulling her panties down. A sigh and then a loud whisper later, "Peeta, could you uh.. whistle or sing or something? It's so quiet."

Whistle or sing? Oh. Make some noise, you idiot. She's obviously embarrassed about having to do something so intimate as pee in front of you. If she knew the true direction of my thoughts, I suspected I'd end up with my head in the nearby toilet. Shrugging, I started the first verse of the first song that popped into my sex-addled head, a slow blues song made famous by BB King that my dad used to play in the bakery when we cleaned the ovens late at night.

_Need someone's hand to lead me through the night_

_I need someone's arms to hold and squeeze me tight_

_When the night begins, baby, I'm at an end_

_Because I need your love so bad_

I winced when the fingers of my cuffed hand accidentally brushed against a patch of soft skin. Her thigh? Just kill me now. I leaned back against the blue plastic wall next to the door, and lightly slammed the back of my head against it in an effort to curb my body's dizzying reaction to touching her so intimately, even by accident. Closing my hand in a fist to avoid future mishaps, I began the next verse in a rather shaky voice.

_I-I need some lips to feel next to mine_

_Need someone to stand up- to stand up and tell me when I'm lyin'_

_And when the lights are low- and it's time to go_

_That's when I need your love so bad_

_Need a soft voice that'll talk to me at night_

_Don't you worry about it, baby_

_Everything's going to be alright_

_Please listen to my plea, and bring it on home to me_

_Baby, I need your love so bad._

I felt gentle tugs at my shackled wrist as she moved to pull up her panties. With a hard swallow, I wondered what color they were. Was she a practical boy shorts sort of girl or a thong girl? I imagined reaching out with my hand to find out. Arghh... Please let this torture end soon. I struggled to remember the last verse of the song. My head was spinning, and I felt the giddy longing to brush my fingertips over the smooth warmth of her thigh again, when I continued in a rasp:

_So give it up and bring it on home to me_

_Write it on paper, so it'll be read to me_

_Tell me that you love me, baby, and stop drivin' me mad_

_'Cause I -I need your love so, so bad_

I was just drawing out the last notes of the final verse when Katniss poked her head out from behind the blue plastic door, looking sheepish and a little bemused. The heavy atmosphere around us underscored how apt the lyrics I'd sung were. I was indeed feeling more than a little _mad_ with lust, myself.

"All set?" I tried for an innocent smile, praying she wouldn't look down. If she did, she'd see clear evidence of the inappropriate direction my thoughts had taken during her less than two-minute visit to the loo with my cuffed hand in close attendance. I suddenly _hated_ my hand. Lucky, lucky five digit bastard.

"Yeah. And thanks for... the singing," she shyly cast her eyes downward for a second _(Shit!)_, but thankfully, chose to ignore the bulge clearly outlined by my pants. She sounded surprised when she continued,"You know, you do have an excellent voice. I've never heard you sing that song, not that I've actually heard all that much of your work. _(Ouch!)_ Anyway...the song really suits your vocal range. You should perform it sometime."

"Er... Thanks," I tried not to show how pleased I was by her sincere praise, "Not sure it would fit with our other material, but I've always loved the song. Makes me think of working in the bakery with my dad back home in Philly."

I could have kicked my own ass at the sad look that crossed her face at my off-hand comment. I started to stammer an apology, but she interrupted by leading us over to the small portable hand-wash station next to the port-a-potties, "Better hurry up. Don't want to miss sound check."

She shook her now wet hands, and I handed her a paper towel, "Thanks," she muttered absently, "I've been thinking... Obviously, you're going to have to be on stage with me. We can get you something to sit on next to the keyboards, so you won't be quite so obvious up there." _Sure, good luck with __**that**__._

Fortunately, I didn't speak my thought aloud, as she would know what a vain prick I truly was. I said instead, "Whatever you want. At least I'm wearing black. I might blend into the background."

I literally _felt_ her eyes skim up and down my entire body before she said drily, "Yeah, right."

She started to say something else, but we were interrupted when the tall, gray-eyed tosser that could be her brother, but unfortunately wasn't, loped over to us, "There you are, Catnip. I was worried when you didn't come in with the others. This..." he stopped to examine me as though I were some sort of disgusting fungus he might find on his nutsack, "... guy bothering you?"

I bristled, straightening to my full height and took a step toward him. If he wanted a throw down I was more than ready to oblige. I'd love to punch that sneer right off his admittedly handsome face.

Katniss picked up on the animosity between us, and she ground out in irritation, "Can we save the male posturing until after the gig? Gale, as Peeta and I are currently stuck handcuffed to each other with no idea where the lunatic who has the key is, I'd say he's _bothering_ me."

That stung, I'll admit. Even though our situation was less than ideal, I thought Katniss and I got along rather well. So, in true Peeta Mellark form, I decided to state the obvious in hopes of lightening the mood, "Katniss, you wound me," I pressed my cuffed hand to my chest in mock distress.

"Of course, it's not totally your fault," Katniss stated grudgingly.

"'Not totally my fault?'" I spluttered, "How the hell do you work this out to make me responsible for this at all? You're the one who came to me ranting and raving about our supposed relationship in the press damaging your precious reputation as some indie rock goddess. Cinna only noticed us because of you screeching at me. If anyone is to blame for this, it's you, _sweetheart._"

Okay, I admit it, invoking Haymitch's insulting endearment for Katniss was not my best moment, but she made me _so_ angry. It's not like I told Cinna to cuff us together, and there she stood implying that this was at least partly my fault. Oh, hell no.

While I stood there fuming at Katniss, Gale took a menacing step toward me, "Don't speak to Katniss like that, you pompous pretty-boy prick."

"Who you calling a prick, dickhead?" I growled dangerously.

Once, while Finn was flipping through channels late one night during our last tour, I'd seen some random tv show about people who claimed they'd been possessed by demons that made them do some really crazy shit, like biting the heads off rats and such. At the time, I'd laughed it off as hokey bullshit, but it's the only explanation I have for what happened next.

I lunged forward, totally forgetting Katniss was attached to me, and raised both my arms to shove Gale hard in the chest in preparation for slugging the asshole in his smug, chiseled face. Unfortunately, Gale beat me to it and swung first, but he swung wide, so I easily dodged it, only to realize a millisecond later that Katniss was about to take the punch intended for me. Without thinking, I threw my entire body at her, pushing her to the ground, and landing on top of her with a loud ooof.

We lay there panting on the grass for several seconds staring at each other in dazed shock. Through some sick twist of fate, my hips were perfectly aligned with hers, with her legs on either side of my hips. I felt the fiery lick of arousal in my groin as she pushed up against my erection, but alas she was yelling, "Dammit, get off me. What the hell? You two pick _now_ to go all macho and fight before the most important show of the band's career. Really?"

It took me a few more moments of laying there on top of Katniss with my mouth hanging open to recover enough to actually do what she'd so vehemently demanded. Standing and helping Katniss up, I realized I still had a number of issues to be dealt with:

1) Gale was standing nearby looking as though he'd like nothing more than to take another swing at me.

2) There were 2 mean looking security guards approaching, who'd noticed our dramatics.

3) And last, but most important, I had come to the realization that I didn't want the handcuffs linking me to Katniss to come off anytime soon. I felt a desperate, undeniable pull toward this amazingly strong, complex woman who I'd known for less than 24 hours.

_I was **so** screwed. Fuck._

But that wasn't all! Oh, no, not even close. As I stood outside the Apple Live Tent waiting for the security guards to decide whether or not to take us into custody or let us go, so Katniss could perform, I suddenly noticed a fuzzy, buzzed feeling that I'd had only one other time in my life. That time had been the night after final exams of my junior year in college, when I'd experimented with pot. But how the hell could I have a pot buzz now? I hadn't smoked or eaten anything containing marijuana since then, ever. Then it hit me like a guitar to the head- Finn's "special" brownies. Fuck! I was going to fucking kill Finnick ODair, and I really meant it this time. His Scotch-Irish ass was living on borrowed time.

I shifted my bleary gaze to Katniss, looking for signs that she was feeling the effects of the pot-brownies. She'd had several bites after she'd discovered how good they tasted. Suddenly, everything seemed pretty damn funny. A gruff giggle escaped my lips before I could stop myself. One thing was certain, it was going to be an interesting performance.

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_Oopsies! Accidental pot ingestion. Should make for a memorable concert for Katniss, Johanna, and Annie, eh? Especially with a stoned Peeta thrown into the mix. Please show the love by reviewing!_


	6. The Difference Between Kats and Kitties

_** Story summary up to now: **Katniss and Peeta meet on their way to performances with their respective bands at the Oxegen Music Festival in Ireland. There is a freak handcuffing incident at the festival, which leaves them bound together. Katniss and her band are scheduled to perform, and Peeta must tag along (obviously). Gale and Peeta almost come to blows outside the performance, attracting the interest of security. At that precise moment Peeta realizes that he, Katniss, and Johanna have accidentally ingested pot that was in brownies Finnick gave them. Got all that? Good! Let the fun continue..._

_**Thanks to the lovely, talented ct522 for her help with this and other chapters!**_

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**Chapter 6- The Difference Between Kats and Kitties**

The combination of Annie's gynecologist-prescribed pain-killers and Finn's "special brownies" left me with a raging case of the giggles in front of Katniss and her tool of a boyfriend (or whoever the hell he was), not to mention 2 security guards wearing decidedly suspicious expressions. Definite buzz kill. I brutally stamped down on my hyena laughs.

_Come on, Mellark, pull it together here. Was pot illegal in Ireland? Probably. Don't get busted and ruin Katniss' big chance, you idiot. Be cool and sober-ish. _Another giggle escaped me. _Shit. Wonder if they allow one phone call in Irish prisons like they do back in the US. I was **so** going to call Finnick and give that SOB an earful for giving me sodding "special" brownies._

The 2 guards approached warily. The older one, who reminded me of Pierce Brosnan, for some reason, spoke with a subtle bur, "Do we have a problem here, gentlemen?" Then addressed his companion, "Ned, I believe we should take these three to the Garda Office across grounds until they cool off a bit."

Unfortunately, an errant chuckle escaped me just then at the thought of being taken into custody by a James Bond doppelgänger. Katniss yanked hard on my cuffed wrist with hers and sent me a get-your-shit-together look.

"Ow, Kat! That really hurt," I whined in between chortles, "Have a little mercy. I have artist's hands, you know. They're insured for a couple hundred grand, in fact."

Katniss glared at me, and turned to look at the 2 guards beseechingly, "He's my a ... lunatic cousin. Monorail doors at Disney World closed on his head when he was a kid. In my family, we take turns caring for him. Pretty sad actually." She pulled a forlorn face, while holding up our attached hands. Great actress, she was not, but were they willing to buy her line of crap?

"My dear cuz," I grinned beatifically, trying to play along, "She takes _such_ good care of me. Don't ya', luv?" I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, accidentally forcing her cuffed hand behind her back, while I swooped her backwards into a surprise dip while planting a loud kiss on her lips, which were conveniently open in a gasp.

When we were upright again, Katniss shoved at me, and I'd have been pushed into the next county had we not been attached. She was pissed. What a f-ing surprise. The guards looked really suspicious now. Gale looked ready to jump me again. Thinking fast while under the influence was not an easy feat, but I was the ever-charming Peeta Mellark, dammit.

"Oh, darling," I moved behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist, tucking my chin against her brow, "Don't be angry with me. We might as well let them in on our secret, huh? Cousins? Phpf... Who'd believe that nonsense anyway? ... When it's so obvious that I'm positively besotted with you," I moved my head to stare lovingly into her eyes for confirmation. Now, she looked puzzled _and_ pissed.

I returned my attention to the 2 security guards in front of us, and with every sober molecule left in my body said, "Seriously, guys, it's a huge secret, but I just can't keep it to myself any longer."

I leaned toward the two guards conspiratorially. Everyone in our little group was hanging on my every word when I said, "This gorgeous woman has just agreed to be my wife! Can you believe it? We're engaged! Yay!"

Katniss let out a soft gasp at my announcement before settling into shocked silence. I tried to beseech her with my eyes to just play along. She was quiet for the moment, which gave me hope. Gale took a menacing step at me and opened his mouth to say something. Katniss exchanged a glance with him and subtly shook her head, freezing his movement. Interesting the power she wielded over him without speaking a word.

Meanwhile the two guards were looking between Katniss and me and at our cuffed wrists suspiciously. 007 finally spoke, "So what's with the cuffs, then?"

"Oh, these? A _very_ interesting story, really. Shall I tell them, sweetheart?" I took Katniss' shackled hand in mine, placing a soft kiss on her wrist before continuing, "My little ball and chain here thought she'd spice up our soon-to-be-married sex life. Not that we needed any help, mind you," I waggled my eyebrows lasciviously _(Crap. I'm turning into Finn!)_, "Well, joke's on her, eh fellas?" I laughed like a maniac, "Because we can't seem to find the keys." I kept laughing, but no one else joined me. Tough crowd.

Katniss had a gleam in her eye that was positively alarming, but she didn't deny my story. Shifting my attention back to the security guards, I sobered again, "One of you wouldn't happen to have a key to Smith and Wesson standard issue steel handcuffs, would you? I mean, I'm delighted to be bound to my girl here, but she has a gig in- whoo... like 20 minutes in this tent right here. Isn't that true, dearest?" I hazarded a look at the fuming Katniss. God, she was positively gorgeous in her fury. Being her shackled fiancé suddenly didn't seem so bad, though when would it ever?

"Uh, yeah," Katniss stammered, "I was so nervous about our gig, and now this." She gestured to our cuffed hands, before continuing in a sickeningly sweet voice, "At least now Peety will be up there with me when I perform."

Peety? Really. Bad. Liar. Mentally shrugging for what had to be the thousandth time of the day, I ran with it, and moved my hands to Katniss' hips, and angled my head to kiss her lingeringly on the lips. _(No reason I shouldn't have a little fun in this, right? Man, she tasted good!)_

I pulled my mouth away, staring deeply into her blazing gray eyes to say, "That's right, my darling. I'm here for you always, with or without the handcuffs."

"Aww.. now, John, isna' that just what I was tellin' ya," the younger, slightly pudgy guard whose name was Ned turned to ask his older companion, "Love is being there for each other through the thick and the thin of it. My Maggie could do that, if she'd just dump tha' tosser of a butcher in the next village, and put her faith in me." Poor man actually looked on the verge of tears.

I tried for a sympathetic look, "Exactly, my good man," I agreed enthusiastically, "Which is precisely why we need to get in there and get my little missus, oof," Katniss dug her elbow into my stomach, "...here to her performance. Am I right?"

Looking around our small group, I knew I had this, but whether or not Katniss would let me live when we got past the security guards was another matter entirely. Gale looked pretty pissed as well- kinda like the bull in a Bugs Bunny cartoon, with eyes blazing and smoke rising from his nostrils. I laughed again at such an image, but the laughter died in my throat, as Katniss made like she was holding my hand when she was actually squeezing it so hard my eyes watered. She leaned into me in what would appear to the casual observer to be a smitten fiancé putting her head on her beloved's shoulder.

"I don't know why you told them we were engaged, but if this gets out to the press," she whispered tightly, "You **_will _** be sorry. I'm my father's daughter. I still remember how to use a bow, and I will drop you where you stand." _Yikes!_

After presenting our performer badges and a jaunty wave to the guards we were inside the tent. Gale pulled me aside with my free right arm, getting in my face to mutter, "Listen, punk, I don't know who the hell you think you are, but she doesn't need someone like you fucking this up for her. I _will_ get Katniss free of you, if I have to saw, cut, or _gnaw _ your fucking arm off myself. Watch yourself up on stage, because I sure as hell will be. "

Well, that was graphic and kind of disturbing, yet still I managed to smile and reply good-naturedly, "Hey- chill, man. This is the second time in as many minutes I've been threatened with bodily harm by you and your girlfriend. What's important now is to get Katniss and the band on stage as soon as possible. We're all on the same team here, right?"

He glowered at me looking like he wanted to say more but thought better of it. Shaking his head, he turned and stepped over to where Katniss was now in rapid conversation with Annie and Jo. I heard him say, "Don't worry, Kat, Madge is scouring Dublin for industrial-sized bolt cutters as we speak. One way or another, you'll be free within a few hours... that's a promise." He sent me a look filled with malice before stalking off toward the backstage area further inside the tent.

Now, that really sounded ominous. I didn't fancy Gale, the angry giant, in possession of sharp tools in my vicinity. I was about to say as much when my mobile phone rang, Finnick's grinning face appearing on the screen.

"What the hell, Finn?" I said after sliding the answer bar, "Why the fuck did you give me brownies with pot in them?"

I suddenly had Katniss' full attention with my loudly exclaimed sentence. Her inky eyebrows rose almost to her hairline, but I turned my back and ignored her in a fit of piqué, giving Finnick my undivided attention.

"Yer welcome, mate. Damn, Peeta," Finn grumbled, "I said they were 'special.' How much more specific could I be without getting us arrested? Besides, this is most likely a _good _ thing. Do ye have any bleedin' idea what type o' music they play, anyway? Annie told me, and I'm thinking yer going te need all the mind-altering substances ye can get yer hands on, pal-o."

"What?" I said in alarm, "It's not New Age or some such nonsense is it?"

"Hey, now," Finn spat in an angry tone, "Ye said ye enjoyed Enya when I played her latest fer ye last year. Don't be insulting me fellow countrywoman and a fine artist te boot! But, no, not New Age. Not even close. The signing's wrapping up, so I should be there in few te enjoy at least part o' the show, meself. Try not te throw yerself offstage before I get there, eh?" Finn joked ominously before he rang off.

This was bad. As in, not good at all. If Finnick found their music questionable, it must be horrendous. Don't get me wrong, I was not some sort of music purist or snob or anything. Finn and I once sat through an entire rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" by some incredibly nice, albeit tone-deaf, fans in a karaoke bar in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia. Finn had congratulated them on their incredibly moving performance with nary a wince. I had smiled and agreed with him wholeheartedly.

Straightening my spine I turned back to face Katniss, Johanna and Annie before saying, "So, ladies," I began as casually as I could manage, "What kind of music is your band into exactly? Indie rock? Polka?"

"Never mind that! What's this about pot brownies? Were those brownies spiked?!" Katniss asked, as notes of panic colored her voice, "We have to go on stage in less than 30 minutes, and we all, excepting Annie, had pot!? What the hell, Peeta?"

"Exactly what I said to Finn, as you heard," I grinned sheepishly down at her, "Well, except for the Peeta part, of course. You only had a few bites, right? I doubt you'll feel much. If anything, it might help to, you know, loosen up. You are kind of wound a little tight, I've noticed."

I could literally count on one hand the times I said the epically wrong thing. Argh. Someone staple my tongue to the roof of my mouth.

Katniss narrowed her eyes at me, clutching my hand in yet another death grip, "Peeta Mellark, this may be a big joke to you, but 3 Angry Kitties is on the verge of making it big. This gig could be huge for us, and...

"Excuse me, 3 Angry what?" I had a bad feeling, and it wasn't just a bad reaction to the lady-issues painkillers Annie had given me combined with the pot brownies.

"Kitties. 3 Angry Kitties is the name of our band," Katniss said in a offended tone, as if she were really saying: "Duh. You didn't know that, you noob? Where have you been?"

"So, let me understand this- you named your band after 3 pissed off kittens?" I asked incredulously, "What are you- like six?"

"No," Johanna shot back before Katniss could respond, "3 Angry **_Kitties_** as in 3..." at this she gestured among Katniss, Annie and herself, " ...angry **_vaginas_ **or vaginae, if you want to be correct. Eessh... and you're asking who's 6? Get a fucking clue, junior."

"Oh." I had no response to that. The uncomfortable moment just went on and on and **on**, as I valiantly tried not to look at Johanna or Annie or..._Oh, shit!_ I locked eyes with Katniss and she was looking decidedly and maliciously amused at my shock and confusion.

"Except, tonight when we take the stage, we'll be 3 Angry Kitties and..." Johanna laughed throatily, "...a Pathetic Peter."

"It's _Pee_**_-ta_**, not Peter." I corrected automatically before it registered what she'd said, "Oh... you meant..._peter _ as in penis."

"Ding ding! We have a winner! Give this boy a prize!" Johanna was now cackling gleefully as we made our way to the backstage area of the performance tent, where she made her parting shot, "Now- somebody explain to the poor lad that 'angry kitty' is slang for _lesbian_."

_**Lesbian? What?! ** _My pot and painkiller addled brain stuttered and struggled to focus._ They were lesbians? Did that mean Katniss included?_ _Mellark, your mother was right. You **are** an idiot._ My face felt hot like the time I'd passed out on a beach in Malibu and woke up hours later dangerously dehydrated with a raging case of sunburn.

I literally staggered a little in my attempt to keep up with Katniss, who was striding towards the makeshift dressing area just behind the stage. She actually wore a look of pity when she stopped to allow me to get my footing.

"Johanna came up with the name. We thought it would keep guys from hassling us too much on the road. Turns out some guys think lesbians are hot," she shrugged, "Like a challenge or something."

My mouth opened and closed a couple of times, but nothing came out until finally, "Uh... so does that mean that the 3 of you are all... um... I mean...are you..?" I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud. I had nothing what-so-ever against lesbians in general, but at that moment, I felt as though my heart was cracking in two.

Katniss laughed softly and patted my flaming cheek with her cool hand, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

_Fuck. Just kill me now. I was falling in love with a hot lesbian. Time to gnaw off my own damn arm and get the hell out of here._

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_At this point in our story, I feel I should remind you what an Everlark disciple I am. That said, did you expect this turn of events?** Please review and let me know your thoughts!** Is Peeta jumping to conclusions or should he really gnaw his arm off? Thanks for reading! __Next chapter: 3 Angry Kitties and Peeta perform! _


	7. Isn't Foreplay Supposed to Feel Good?

_**Chapter 6 Refresher:** Katniss and Peeta are still handcuffed together, and what to do? Katniss and her band, 3 Angry Kitties, are set to go onstage in minutes. There's also the small detail that an accidentally stoned Peeta suspects Katniss might be a lesbian. And now, on with the show!_

_If I could buy ct522 her own island, I would. She's **that** great a beta!_

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**Chapter 7- Isn't Foreplay Supposed to Feel Good?**

Maybe proclaiming that I was in love with a hot lesbian, even to myself in my own head, was overstating the case a bit. First off, love was maybe too strong a word. Secondly, had she out and out said she was a lesbian? No, she had not- not in so many words anyway. _Take a big step back here, Mellark, or as big a step as you can take while shackled to this infuriating, frustrating, mercurial enigma that is Katniss Everdeen. Just get yourself through this all-important concert by a band named after lady parts, and then you and Katniss will be free to find Cinna and the key to freedom from each other._ I couldn't decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing at this point.

My head was pounding in woozy sort of way, and I was suddenly really freaking hungry! Those brownies sure didn't last long. Oh, yeah. The brownies- weed was notorious for giving one the munchies. I scanned the crowded backstage area of the AppleLive tent in hopes of a hospitality table with some sort of edible food on it. The clusters of people parted, and I saw it, a picked-over selection of cheeses and fruits. Taking a couple of steps in that direction, I was suddenly reminded that Katniss would need to come, too. Shit.

"Hey! Whoa, there cowboy," Katniss yelped, "Let me know when you've got to go some place in a hurry, will you? I'd like to keep my arm attached to the rest of my body, thanks."

"Sorry," I mumbled absently before blowing out a breath, "Listen, I really need to head over to that table and grab something to eat before we, I mean, _you_ go to warm up."

"No, _I'm_ sorry that my crucial-for-the-survival-of-this-band show is getting in the way of your feeding schedule," Katniss grit out with no small amount of sarcasm. "Can't it wait?"

"No," I looked her directly in the eye, and ground out in irritation, "Unless you want me to take a header onstage as Finn already suggested, I need to eat something, okay? I'm sorry to be such a demanding..." I held up our linked wrists tiredly, "...Diva of a rock star, but unless you want to drag my passed-out ass around behind you on stage, I need to eat something."

Katniss studied me silently for a few long moments, "You know, I should have something on my stomach besides a few bites of pot brownie. Let's go see what they've got."

Of course, she'd make it about her, but whatever, as long as I got something to eat. I trudged over to the table of picked-over food and stared listlessly at the wilted lettuce, congealed cheese squares, and leftover grapes. I reached for a small stack of crackers resignedly.

"Oh, look," Katniss interrupted my morose munching on a bland cracker, "Nutella! Who knew they'd have this here? Hand me a cracker, will you?"

I handed her a cracker, so distracted by her excitement over a seemingly unassuming brown food product in a nondescript plastic jar much like peanut butter in the States and I watched as she spread some on the cracker and took a bite, rolling her eyes in ecstasy, "Yep. Nutella. Mom used to pack it for us on our hunting trips. Dad always let me have the last bite."

Then the most surprising thing happened. She held the other half of the cracker out to me, "Here. Try it. It's basically ground hazelnuts and cocoa."

I did know what Nutella was, but this was such an intimate thing, sharing a cracker. I never broke eye contact as I leaned forward and slowly, lingeringly took the rest of the cracker between my teeth, brushing her fingertips with my lips in the process. Her dark brows shot up, and her breath caught in a gasp.

After chewing carefully and licking my lips, I smiled with feigned innocence. "Mmmm... good. Another?" I asked, offering my palm containing the remaining crackers.

Thus began our little game. Neither of us was willing to admit how much sharing the crackers was affecting us, but neither of us was willing to stop either. She would take a cracker from me, spread the gooey Nutella on it and take a bite before handing me the rest. The pads of her warm fingers would brush over mine almost every time, sending prickling awareness curling through me. I'd never found the act of eating so erotic. I knew she felt it, too, by the way she avoided looking at me almost entirely, her eyes too intent on her tasks.

Katniss was licking her fingertips after popping the very last bite of cracker into her mouth, when I felt it necessary for my dignity to find a distraction. _(Hello, partial hard-on from merely watching a woman eat freaking crackers. I needed to get out more, no doubt!)_ I scanned the snack trays with the desperation of a man who was not about to let the physical evidence of his arousal show for a second time in less than an hour.

"Uh… a little fruit to finish?" I held up a ripe, red strawberry that had been hidden beneath some lettuce garnish.

"Y-you don't want it?" she asked looking at me with a strange intensity, her chest heaving as though she were breathless.

"No, you have it. I insist," I replied automatically, distracted by the way her lips were parted slightly and the bewitching flush in her cheeks.

_Oh_... her pink lips slowly wrapped around the plump strawberry in my fingers, and I found myself imagining something else entirely between those succulent lips. This was her revenge for the cracker I'd eaten from her fingers earlier. I knew it was! I had an almost orgasmic experience before she finally bit about half of it away and somewhere in my sensual haze I heard her say, "That is _good_. You have the rest."

"Really?" I pushed it toward her, "No, you should …um... finish it."

She bit her juice-stained lip, and shook her head before saying, "No- you have a taste."

Shrugging, I lifted my hand and took the rest of the berry into my mouth, "Ahmmm... yes, it's very..." I looked down at her and noticed she was staring at my mouth in deep concentration, "Um... _juicy_?" I finished weakly, my voice wavering as her tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip.

Flustered, I lowered my eyes, and they fell on a small smudge of Nutella on the left side of her jaw just where the slope of her neck began. I **so** wanted to lick that chocolatey smear right off her smooth skin with the flat-part of my tongue. _Stop right there, Mellark! Only nutjobs go around licking women- at least in public anyway. Oh, for a dark corner. Stop it! Get a fucking grip!_

"You've...ah...got some…" I pointed at the side of her cheek with my index finger.

"What? Have I gotten something on my face? I swear, my sister's always teasing me about what a messy eater I am, but not everyone can be so neat and tidy like her," she muttered self-consciously while trying to rub off the smudge, missing it entirely.

"Here, let me," I said in a low voice, my eyes on hers. I reached out and laid my palm at the side of her neck, and brushed the pad of my thumb over the Nutella to wipe it off.

"Well...thanks," she murmured with a breathy chuckle, giving me one of her mysterious Mona Lisa smiles, as I retracted my hand and put my thumb to my lips to suck off the warm chocolate that had recently been on her skin. I idly noticed that my lips were tingling.

We stood there for several long heartbeats, staring at each other. Oh, my sweet foodie release. We were having sex with food- or at the very least, food foreplay. Weren't we? I mean, it couldn't just be me imagining all this feeding-each-other, erotic subtext, right? This was something. This was amazing and scary and intense. I fought the overwhelming urge to grab this girl by the hand and run away with her and feed her food for days on end just to watch her eat.

I have never wished another person on the other side of the planet as badly as I did Delly Cartwright when she bounced up to me at that exact moment, wrapping her arm around mine, the one that wasn't attached to Katniss.

"Peeta!" Delly bubbled, "Haymitch said you'd probably be here. I knew I could find you. Girlfriends have a sixth-sense that way." _(Haymitch was dead to me. Wait- Girlfriend? What?!)_

Delly squeezed my bicep possessively and let her gaze travel to Katniss for the first time, "Oh, hello again. Still attached, I see. I'll have to remember to buy a pair of these to keep track of my Peety-man here. He does have a tendency to wander off."

Katniss' eyes briefly widened at Delly before they narrowed again when they flicked over to me. Ohh… this was so… **bad**. So very, very bad.

"First of all, I'm not _your 'Peety-man_,' and secondly, I only 'wandered off' after you and Cato swore undying love to each other," I replied tightly, "What are you doing here, Delly? I said I'd call you later."

Great- Now I sounded like the guilty schmuck who juggled multiple women on a regular basis.

"My psychic said I'd meet the person I'm supposed to spend the rest of my life with on foreign shores," Delly explained as if this was the most rational thing in the world, her blue eyes blinking at me innocently, "When I saw you earlier today, it finally all made sense. Us meeting up in Ireland is fate, Peeta."

"Delly," I said her name with a deep, exasperated sigh, "I'm sorry, but I think you need a new psychic, and it's not fate when you call my agent and ask him where I am going to be and then follow me here like a stalker."

"Oh, Peety," Delly said unfazed, "You're so silly. You know I have the utmost faith in Octavia. She's the one who told me I'd get that movie deal, remember?" (_Yeah, the one where she met the __**last**_ _man she was supposed to spend the rest of her life with.)_

Katniss was standing as far as she possibly could from us looking uncomfortable and well, pissed. I was getting to know that expression pretty well. I gave her a look that I hoped would communicate my desperate... what? Apology. Denial. Helplessness. _Well, this just sucked._

Abruptly, Katniss leaned down to a nearby tub of ice and fished around a bit, finally coming up with a couple of bottled waters. She managed to flick icy droplets in my face as she thrust a bottle in my direction before saying, "Here. I need to go warm up, and you should hydrate. It really _would_ suck if you passed out, and I had to drag you around behind me onstage during our performance."

I wanted to scream to the heavens at my frustration. Instead I tipped the water bottle and finished it in 3 big gulps.

"Oi, Kat! Will you guys quit fucking around with the food over there, and get the fuck over here, so we can do this?" Johanna shouted at us through the milling crowd of crew members and assorted stagehands, adding to my frustration with the resounding zap of her bitchiness.

Delly leaned over and kissed me before I realized what she was doing, "I'll be watching offstage, baby."

I decided not to respond to that. The last thing I needed was an infuriated Delly on a tear during the 3 Angry Kitties' set. I suppressed a chuckle, thinking that that would technically make 4 angry kitties. Yep, I was officially going insane.

"Well, let's go, _baby_," Katniss spit out as she dragged me toward the steps leading up to the stage. Strange how the pet name I despised sounded a lot like asshole when _she_ said it.

I had been in the music business for years, but never had I felt so... so like a piece of equipment. Not even that really, because I wasn't even useful like a piece of equipment. As I dutifully went along with Katniss in her pre-performance routine, I truly felt like a useless tool, like a hammer at a wrench convention or something. Not a good feeling for someone accustomed to the frenetic pre-concert rush that preceded a Hijack6 performance.

Peeta Mellark was used to being in control of and at the center of his universe- not a mere satellite in the smaller galaxy of the 3 Angry Kitties. Damn. Not enjoying this nobodiness. I was just a dead-weight attached to Katniss' wrist, as she tried to re-adjust her keyboards and other equipment to work with her encumbered right hand. I could tell she was frustrated.

"At least you don't play guitar," I offered with false cheer after the third time she accidentally bashed my attached left hand into the side of her Moog. "Just think how ridiculous we'd look standing on stage with my arm hanging over yours while you tried to play to say nothing of moving around the stage in lockstep."

"Like this is so much better," Katniss grumbled, glancing at me perched on top of the black plastic packing case that usually held one of their amps during transport, "Be sure you stay out of my way...I mean, it's already pretty cramped back here when it's just me." She gestured to all her equipment and keyboards.

"I have been on stage before, you know," I replied defensively, "You won't even know I'm here."

"Huh. Somehow I doubt that," Katniss gestured out into the crowd milling around in front of the stage.

The tent was already about half full with a large group standing as close to the stage as the barricades would allow. Sliding my sunglasses down my nose to peer over them, I scanned the crowd. Crap.

Apparently, Haymitch hadn't been able to hold off some of my fans. He was seriously on borrowed time as my manager. I saw at least a dozen girls with Hijack6 t-shirts hovering close to the stage. They were all looking right at me, and they had just noticed that I was looking back. Double crap.

"Peeta! Peeta! Oh, my gosh! He's looking... He's looking at us! Hey, Peeta! We love you Peeta!" and several other high-pitched squeals were added to the general cacophony of the performance tent.

Katniss turned to me and glowered, "If your fangirls interfere with our performance, I'll have security toss them out. I swear I will, Mellark, as sure as we're standing, or in your case, sitting here on your ass."

"Thought you'd be grateful for the extra fans," I replied snidely, my temper fraying further.

"I would be," Katniss stared at me intently, "If they were _our_ fans. Obviously, they're here for you, the great and powerful Peeta Mellark." She said this with the implication that their taste was seriously lacking.

I stood up and leaned down to tilt my head so my lips brushed at her ear when I whispered silkily, "Well, _baby_," she stiffened at my use of the word, "Here's your chance to make them _your_ fans as well."

Why did I feel like a kid poking at a bee-hive with my stick just to see what would happen? Ugh. What was it about this woman that turned me into such a ...a man-child? I'd contemplate that later. Right now I had to try to be invisible and not get in Katniss' way. Like that was going to happen.

The tent was completely full to capacity 20 minutes later when Annie's pounding drumbeat started off the first song of The Angry Kitties' set. I sat hunched down in between Katniss' keyboards with sunglasses still in place and the hood of Katniss' coat covering as much of me as possible. My left wrist hung suspended over the keyboards as though I was going to begin playing at any moment, but that was just because Katniss had her hands over the keys. Weird, that. I was on stage for a performance, but I was not to participate at all. I felt restless energy pulsing through me. I wanted to be on my feet, moving, working the crowd, yet here I sat- a sullen lump.

Then she began to sing. For all I was seriously annoyed with her, I had to admit her voice was… full, melodic, and hypnotic in that it held me pinned to my crate entranced. The way she sang had every person in the crowd thinking she was singing just for them, just to them. She was so...so captivating, so beguiling , so sensual. Until I actually listened to **what** she was singing:

_Word is that you're shady_

_The way you treat your ladies_

_Don't you call me baby_

_You're not worth the trouble_

_Flashing all your money_

_That don't buy my honey_

_Get out of my corner_

_I'm too hot for you_

Hey, wait a minute! While her agile fingers flew over her keyboards, she was looking right at me singing this. What the hell had I ever done to Katniss Everdeen to deserve this vocal setdown? She had to know Delly Cartwright was a crazy ex-girlfriend, if ever there was one, and I'd only called Katniss "baby" the one time when she'd insulted me and my fans.

I heard some random guy in the crowd bellow, "You tell 'im, Kat! Yer too good fer the likes of him, ye are."

Something suddenly shifted in me, a surge of anger rushing through me, accompanied by hurt and a generous helping of humiliation. I'd been pretty damn accommodating up until now. I'd blown off a signing party with my own band, so Katniss could make this show, and this was how she thanked me? I was so close to storming off-stage and not giving a tinker's damn that I'd be dragging Katniss behind me. Then I remembered I was Peeta Mellark, dammit- generally a nice guy, who didn't do selfish shit like that, so instead I sat there on my crate, and I tried to smile up at her in an amused way, desperately hoping the hurt didn't show in my eyes.

Across the stage in the wings, I met Finnick's eye. He must have just arrived to watch the show. He gave me a look of sympathy, and then he straightened and looked around at the stage, and then back to me. He gestured with his hands, miming playing a keyboard and mouthed his thought to me. _Yes._ I grinned. _I could give as good as I got._ After all, I was Peeta Mellark, musician and entertainer. Enough of this suffering in silence bullshit.

I shot up off my crate and was standing next to Katniss at the keyboards before she knew what I was about. Silently thanking my mom for forcing all those years of piano lessons on me, I started with an F-chord and tapped out a melody that was compatible to the song Katniss and her band were playing, before I leaned in close to her and put my mouth to her mic and began to sing:

_Sometimes I feel I've got to run away_

_I've got to get away_

_From the pain you drive in the heart of me_

_The love we share seems to go nowhere_

_I've lost my light; I toss and turn, I can't sleep at night!_

Shooting Katniss a sideways glance, my grin only got wider when a shocked, angry Katniss looked like she was going to pick up her mic stand and beat me with it. I didn't care- much. This felt good. This felt empowering. This felt right. I thought all this for another few seconds before her booted foot stomped down on mine making me see stars before she broke back in and sang almost aggressively:

_I'm not a dumb girl you can mess like that_

_I've seen your type before_

_Go find a sister who'll buy all that_

_Go and get physical_

_Ah ah uh ah ah uh ah ah uh_

Obviously annoyed and confused by my intrusion, Johanna and Annie were struggling a little to keep up with their original song as Katniss belted out:

_I've seen you hangin' round my best-friend's door_

_Discovering a heap of hurt_

_Best not to take your eyes around here no more_

_You'll be the one that hurts_

_Ooh... ooh... ooh..._

Ah ah uh ah ah uh ah ah uh

Somehow Finn was onstage, having grabbed one of Johanna's extra guitars on his way from the wings and was now playing my "Tainted Love" melody in a kind of playful duel with Johanna, the two songs interweaving crazily. _Screw this_, was what I thought, as I leaned against Katniss, her hip pressing into my groin, our mouths almost touching as I played more of my melody in unison with Finn and sang:

_Once I ran to you_

_Now I run from you_

_This tainted love you've given_

_I give you all a boy could give you_

_Take my tears and that's not nearly all- Oh- Tainted Love._

I was only vaguely aware of the roar of the crowd for all the sexual energy suddenly zinging between Katniss and me, like we were alone again in that electrical storm outside of Cinna's compound, our bodies straining towards each other in an odd form of overwhelming attraction. Her head was turned towards me, her graphite eyes glinting at me with annoyance but something else as well. Desire. We, neither of us, could seem to repress that completely. I knew I couldn't. I stared right back into her stormy eyes and sang with all my heart and feeling:

_Don't touch me please_

_I cannot stand the way you tease_

_I love you though you hurt me so_

_Now I'm going to pack my things and go_

_Tainted love, tainted love_

All of Katniss' attention was now focused on me, as her fingers flew over the keyboards mechanically repeating my melody, now playing _my_ song as she sang tentatively in her honeyed tones:

_Touch me baby, tainted love._

I slid my hand over hers on the keys, so we struck them together. I nodded to her, and never breaking eye-contact, we sang in unison, our mouths barely separated by the mic:

_Touch me, baby. Tainted love._

_Tainted love. Tainted love._

Somewhere in there, Finnick, Annie, and Johanna had managed to accompany us almost perfectly and finish the song with a flourish, as though we'd rehearsed it. I was too entranced by the woman leaning into my body to really notice or care, my breath coming in deep pants that matched Katniss'. I knew this because I could feel her exhales whispering across my lips, as I leaned in closer to her…

"As you can see ladies and gentlemen, there's been uh… an addition to our lineup tonight. Katniss seems to have developed a nasty growth on her right wrist,* that doesn't seem to know the meaning of sit there and keep your f-ing mouth shut." Johanna quipped from across the stage.

"Ah- but they do make a lovely couple don't they, folks?," Finn added dodging around Johanna to drawl cheekily into her mic.

Taking Katniss' cuffed hand in mine, I moved to raise our clasped hands in the air, which made her start to pull back before I murmured cajolingly in her ear, "Oh, come on, Kat- they'll love it.

Deafening applause and quite a few fangirl screams filled the AppleLive tent after that. I grinned sheepishly down at an irritated Katniss and said, "What can I say? Just say no… to pot brownies. While I still have the excuse of being slightly stoned, I might as well ask: Katniss, are you a lesbian? 'Cause it would just break my heart if you were."

* * *

**_So, anybody up for Peeta and Katniss getting to know each other a little better while sleeping in the same bed? Unfortunately, they may not be alone. Cinna might turn up, as well._**

**_Thanks for reading! Reviews make me happy! _**

_The 2 songs above which Katniss and Peeta use in their vocal duel are:_

_"Tainted Love" by Soft Cell or Marilyn Manson (your choice)_

_"Ah Ah" by Catharine Courage and Steve Ennever_

_*Some of the concert scene was shamelessly borrowed from the cute little indie movie, Tonight You're Mine, the inspiration for this story. I own no part of that sadly. Check it out sometime on Netflix._


	8. The Universe Has to Kick You in the Head

_**Thanks for all the reviews, follows, and favorites, my beautiful people!** I'm so grateful for every single one of you for sticking with me on this little adventure that is **Tainted Love**. Let the concert fun continue!_

_Heartfelt thanks to my beta extraordinaire, ct522, who is my own personal Cinna in all things THG related!_

* * *

**Chapter 8- Sometimes the Universe Has to Kick You in the Head Repeatedly**

So, did I sit back down on my crate and quietly twiddle my thumbs during the remainder of the 3 Angry Kitties set? Well… no. I did not. I tried to fade into the background after my steamy, rant-filled duet with Katniss, but the fans, both mine and hers, had other ideas.

"Peeta! Kat! Peeta! Kat! Peeta! Kat!" a large majority of the crowd was chanting our names in unison.

I looked at Katniss, prepared for a well-placed knee to my groin, but she appeared surprisingly unperturbed by what could only be considered as me hijacking her set. I leaned into her, and covered our shared mic with my hand, so the crowd couldn't hear what I said next, "Have you got anything I'd know that we could sing together? Then I swear on our next Hijack6 album, I'll be as quiet as a mouse."

"Why do I not believe you? And you know what they say about cats and mice, don't you?" she shot me a meaningful look and laughed like it was ...funny.

_Huh. Hadn't expected her to take this so well. She must have had more pot brownie than I thought. Unless…._

"You're not going to like...**eat **me, are you? Isn't that what 'they' say cats do to mice?" I shot back saucily, before I realized what I'd just implied ..._Hell, what __**was **__I implying? Stop right there, Mellark! You do not want to go there in front of a few thousand people who are looking right at you. The wadded-up-socks-in-the-jeans look went out decades ago._

"Oh, silly Peeta," Katniss leaned into me, so our faces almost touched. Her faintly chocolate-scented breath fanning over my face as she practically purred, "I like to play with my food before I eat it."

"Uh…" That's all I could manage- truly. The tent was actually spinning a little as most of my blood rushed from my head to um… elsewhere.

"The expression on your face is priceless," Kat studied me appraisingly for a moment, "A mix of fear, arousal, and embarrassment. I imagine that's the look you'd have during sex."

"I can't believe you just said that!" I choked out breathlessly, "And at this particular moment in front of a few thousand people. Geez, Kat, cut a guy a break, will you?"

Grinning wickedly she said, "Just try to keep up, Mellark." She signalled to the others on stage she was ready to begin the next song.

Her fingers moved over the keys for the intro to a song that was as seductive as it was iconic. The low, dreamy notes of The Doors, "Light My Fire" filled the tent, holding the crowd in thrall. I distinctly heard Finn woop joyously as his guitar joined in. Katniss began to sing in her sultry, bedroom voice:

_You know that it would be untrue _

_You know that I would be a liar_

I couldn't bring myself to look away from her tantalizing lips now uttering words intended to entice the listener into the powerful sexuality of the song. Her quicksilver eyes glowed with a preternatural light when her gaze locked and tangled with mine once more. Picking up her challenge along with her gaze, I leaned in close and sang in low tones:

_If I was to say to you _

_Girl, we couldn't get much __**higher**_

Her expressive eyebrows shot up at the last word, which I uttered with a certain irony before we continued to sing in unison, caught in a staring match, neither of us could break:

_Come on baby, light my fire _

_Come on baby, light my fire _

_Try to set the night on fire_

The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end at the way her eyes roved hungrily down my body as her voice interwove with mine to the slow, shivery beat. I could smell the warmed mint and lavender on her heated skin, when she leaned in front of me to adjust a dial on her equipment, and the soft curve of her breast brushed against my upper arm. I barely stifled a groan as a hard little bud pressed back against my bare bicep. Her intake of a startled breath told me she'd felt it, too. We continued with our sensual duet:

_The time to hesitate is through _

_No time to wallow in the mire _

_Try now we can only lose _

_And our love become a funeral pyre _

_Come on baby, light my fire _

_Come on baby, light my fire _

_Try to set the night on fire, yeah *_

After Katniss and I finished the last line in unison, I was vaguely aware of Finn and Annie driving the song to it's stirring climax, but I couldn't bring myself to look away from the woman standing a hair's-breadth from me at the keyboards, as I fully realized what I'd been fighting all along. I wanted Katniss with a desperation I'd never felt before. I had to have this woman. Soon.

Finnick's lilting drawl broke the spell, "Well, folks, I'll tell ye, who says ye have te take yer clothes off te have an orgasm, eh? Let's hear it fer the lovely and talented Katniss Everdeen and the lucky bastard who got te sing w' her, Peeta Mellark."

For just a moment, Katniss hesitated before looking away from me to smile at the ecstatic crowd. In that tiny sliver of time, I came to know something else. She felt as I did, and I made a vow to myself there and then. Whatever this strange, carnal connection between us was- I knew I was _hers_, and she was _mine_. My body thrummed in that knowledge just as though her agile fingers had fluttered over me like one of her keyboards.

The rest of the set and the encores passed in a blur of repressed arousal and frenetic performers' energy. We were tripping lightly down the backstage steps after the last encore when she called to me behind her, "Well, that was interesting."

"Ah-hmmm… yeah," I cleared my throat, which was suddenly as arid as any desert. In unspoken accord we headed for the bins of ice from before, and I dug us both out a bottle of water, before tipping my head back and downing mine in one go.

When I finished, I lowered my chin to find Katniss intently staring in the general direction of my Adam's apple as though she were Eve in the Garden. The mental image of her white teeth nibbling me there had me shifting on my feet restlessly and casting around for anything to distract myself from my state of near constant arousal.

"That set was awesome," I said in what I hoped was an enthusiastic, yet steady voice, striving to break my stare on her lips, "We should do that again sometime. The crowd seemed to like it, that's for sure."

An expression I couldn't name clouded Katniss' features before she said in a clipped tone, "Let's find Cinna. He's performing on the mainstage soon. Time to get these cuffs **off**." She held up our linked wrists and thrust her hand forward to illustrate her point.

I felt like she'd upended the icewater bin over my head. One step forward and two steps back with this woman. I sighed and fought the urge to scrub my palm over my face in frustration.

"After you," I gestured toward the back entrance of the AppleLive Performance Tent. "Let's hope Cinna actually bothers to show up for his own show. Effie was freaking because he pulled a Houdini earlier, remember?"

Leaving was not to be that easy. We hadn't taken 3 steps when we were suddenly surrounded by a jubilant Finnick, Annie, and Jo all in the throes of that natural high that comes from a successful performance on stage. They were all talking at once, even Annie.

Delly pranced up to me in her Jimmy Choo leopard print boots that were insanely inappropriate for the muddy, damp conditions of the festival grounds, and proceeded to wrap herself around me like a scarf before cooing in my ear, "Oh, Peety, I'd forgotten how sexy you can be up there. Rawrr…" I winced at her playful growl, and drew my head back to narrowly avoid her teeth nipping at my ear.

"Err… Thanks, Dells," I replied absently, while attempting to pry myself from her surprisingly strong arms. I caught Katniss scowling at me for what had to be the millionth time since I'd laid eyes on her in the airplane a scant 24 hours ago.

Gale strode up just then to offer Katniss a tight hug and a kiss. _How in the fuck had I forgotten about this asshole? _ Raging lust had that effect I mused prosaically.

"I've managed to commandeer a golf cart to take us to the Mainstage to find Cinna," Gale announced proudly to the group at large. _Tosser._

I cast a glance at Katniss, and she wore a look of decided relief. _Fuck._

"Trouble is," Gale continued, "It only seats 6 including the driver, so I hate to break this party up, but…"

"Oh, I need to make sure my kit is dismantled properly, so I'll stay back," Annie offered quietly, "Katniss, you and the others go on, and I'll be glad to oversee our gear,"

"Thanks, Annie," Katniss uttered gratefully.

"That's settled then," Gale began to lead the way to the tent back and the awaiting golf cart.

Looking back, I noted that Finnick had stayed behind and was in deep conversation with Annie, "Hey, Finn- you coming?"

Finn's eyes fell on mine guiltily, "Ah, ye go ahead, Peet. I'll, er, catch up in a bit."

Klaxon-like alarms akin to those one would expect at a nuclear power plant during a melt-down were going off in my head as I shot Finnick a warning, bordering-on-threatening look before my eyes settled on Annie, who was smiling happily up at Finn oblivious to her peril. Just before he broke eye contact with me to smile down at Annie, Finn nodded in subtle understanding that if he in any way hurt that dear girl, he'd answer to me, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Just as we got to the cart with the waiting driver, Gale's mobile began to ring, and he answered it, "Madge, hey babe, did you get those cutters?"

"What?" he stiffened, "You sure? Okay. Okay." He let out a breath and absently pushed his fingers through his dark hair.

There was a brief pause as Gale thought or Marge talked, I was too far away to tell.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight," Gale hung up soon after and looked at Katniss and Jo.

"Madge has been in a accident," Gale explained tersely to exclamations of alarm from Katniss and Jo, before he continued, "She's fine. The car is upside down in a ditch, but she's fine. The baby's fine, too, as it's so early. She's a little rattled obviously. Crazy lorry driver ran her off the road. I need to go to her at the hospital. I'll have the cart driver drop me at my car before he takes you to the Mainstage."

"We'll go with you just as soon as…" Katniss began.

"Like that? Please, I have enough on my hands without having to explain to the hospital staff why I brought two people handcuffed together into the emergency ward," Gale replied shortly, "I'll text you when I get there after I see what's what. Get yourself free first, Kat."

Katniss looked like she was going to argue, but then thought better of it. Jo responded, "Gale, go take care of Madge. I got this. I'll get that key from Cinna if I have to hang him by his ankles and shake him until it falls out of his pocket."

We had just dropped off Gale near his car in a parking lot adjacent to the festival grounds when I realized we had an additional passenger in the back bench seat of the cart just behind Katniss and me. Delly. Damn- the woman was like a bad case of a venereal disease that just wouldn't go away. Tamping down on my uncharitable thoughts, I said blandly, "Delly, where can we drop you?"

"Oh, Peety," Delly reached up to pat my arm, "I go where you go. That's what girlfriends do."

"Delly, for the love of all that is holy, please, stop referring to yourself as that, at least in relation to me," I ground out, "I haven't seen you in months, and you and I were never officially together anyway."

"I plan to change that," Delly trilled in an annoying sing-song voice.

I slumped down in my seat and cussed under my breath, "Not if I can fucking help it."

I felt Katniss' angry, hot glare on me, but I didn't bother to look over. As the cart sped towards the Oxegen Main Stage and Cinna with the key, Jo, ever the helpful bitch she was, quipped, "Peeta, I don't think you've introduced me to your girlfriend."

I clenched my fists against the leather seats of the golf cart to keep from reaching out to where Jo sat in the seat in front of me next to the driver and wrapping my hands around her neck, as I practically spit _(Okay, maybe I __**did **__spit a little.)_, "Not. My. Girlfriend. Jo this is Delly. Delly - Jo."

Jo looked back at Delly and grinned sweetly, "Pleasure." _Oh, so she __**could **__be nice to people, just not f-ing __**me**__. Why was that I wondered?_

Delly giggled and replied in kind. I'd gone my entire life never wanting to harm a woman- until _now_. Now, in this golf cart, I didn't honestly know which one of the three I'd choose to throttle first if it came down to it. For the rest of the trip we sat in mostly awkward silence punctuated by annoyingly cheerful chatter from Delly, and Jo swapping dirty jokes with our driver. Katniss and I sat stonily in the middle seat not speaking to each other or anyone else.

We finally managed to get backstage at the Oxegen Mainstage after much discussion with security and fervid promises that we weren't crazed stalkers out to handcuff ourselves to Cinna. _Pfpt- what a fucking joke __**that **__was._

One of Cinna's hits was winding down on-stage when we arrived in the wings. Cinna was a total flake, no joke, but no one could deny he was a brilliant showman. He held the thousands in the crowd in the palm of his hand with his riveting stage-presence and larger-than-life persona. I really felt I should be taking notes as I watched the master perform:

_Love is gentle as a rose _

_And love can conquer any war _

_It's time to take a stand _

_Brothers and sisters join hands _

_We got to let love rule_

_Let love rule_

_We got to let love rule_

_Let love rule*_

Cinna happened to look over at us as he was drawing out the word "love." Smiling benignly at us before looking out over the huge crowd once more, he raised his arms in the air and went for the big finish. The crowd went wild in adoration and joyous praise.

"People..." Cinna began, waiting for the crowd to quiet a few decibels before continuing, "My gentle people. Just a moment, please. I have some new and dear friends here with me tonight. I know with your help, we can convince them to come out here and sing a final chorus of this song with us. So, put your hands together and show all that love I know you have in your hearts for Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark of 3 Angry Kitties and Hijack6 respectively!"

_Oh, shit!_ There had to be at least 40 thousand people in the audience. That was a fucking lot of people- even for me. Taking a deep breath as I always schooled myself to do before going out on stage, I started to walk, and came to an abrupt halt when I reached the limit of my tether to Katniss, who was standing frozen, perfectly still, eyes wide in horror. I walked back to her as the crowd began to chant our names in a similar fashion to that of our much smaller venue earlier.

"Katniss! Peeta! Katniss! Peeta! Katniss!" Echoed in the open air like an incredibly loud metronome, while a waiting Cinna extended his arm toward us grandly.

I took the two steps back to stand between Katniss and the crowd and leaned close to her ear so I could be heard when I spoke, "Just breathe," I tilted my head to look in her wide eyes, staring unblinkingly back at me. "It's just like the AppleLive tent- only a few more people, is all." I grinned mischievously at her, "Besides I'm here with you. I'm not going anywhere, and we can do this," I reached down and clasped her hand in mine and held up our linked hands.

"Together?" I asked earnestly, never taking my eyes from hers. Cinna, the riffing instruments of the band, the chants of the crowd all faded to nothing in that moment. It was just us- _together_.

"Together," she murmured, so quietly I didn't really hear her, but I knew she said it by the way her lips moved.

I lifted our joined hands in the air as we walked out to stand next to Cinna before the roaring thousands, and the band continued the notes of the song we'd heard earlier. A crewmember in black appeared with a mic stand and placed it near Cinna's in front of Katniss and me, and we all sang together:

_Love transcends all space and time _

_And love can make a little child smile _

_Can't you see this won't go wrong _

_But we got to be strong _

_We can't do it alone _

_We got to let love rule _

_Let love rule _

_We got to let love rule _

_**Let love rule***_

Even in front of tens of thousands of people I couldn't seem to tear my eyes from the _beloved _face of the girl whose hand currently clasp my own in a death grip, her eyes flitting to mine every few seconds as she sang the lyrics in her rich, unique voice. I squeezed her hand in mine, pressing her palm to mine before lifting it to my lips for a brief kiss. The next time her eyes lighted on me, she offered a tiny, shy smile just for me that transformed her entire face. She was absolutely stunning. I'd never seen anyone more beautiful in my life. Ever. After repeating the final refrain of the song for what had to be the sixth time, I realized with a sudden lurch in my chest, what I had to do. I was going to follow Cinna and the Universe's advice: _I was going to let __**love **__rule._

It was a very good, and likely a very _intentional_ thing on Cinna's part, that I was feeling so loved-up during the euphoric applause from the 40 thousand fans, because he leaned over to Katniss and me and said out of the range of the mics, "We've lost the key."

* * *

_So, we didn't get Katniss and Peeta in bed just yet. I'm so sorry! Next update, I promise! **Review if you feel all the love I do in this chapter. Thank you, my beautiful people!**_

_The song sung by Katniss and Peeta accompanied by Jo, Annie, and Finnick is "Light My Fire" by The Doors._

_The song Cinna, Katniss, and Peeta sing is "Let Love Rule" by the incomparable Lenny Kravitz, who will always be Cinna to me!_

_I own neither of these musical masterpieces or anything to do with Mdm. Collins' works!_


End file.
